Hot Water
by Chiyume
Summary: Castiel hated public showers. In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of... AU-fic containing mystery attractions and a lot of hot water.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel hated public showers.

Not that the showers in the company's dressing room were 'public' in the sense of the word, but still.

As one of the executives Castiel never visited this part of the building which were usually only used by the workers who actually had to get dirty while on the job, yet here he was, the sound of his naked feet echoing in the empty locker room as he made his way to the showers.

Normally he would shower at home, but due to some severe water leakage he suspected originated from the flat above his, the water had been shut off in the entire building until the problem had been fixed. The fact that he had to buy bottled water for drinking, brushing his teeth and brewing his coffee was not something that bothered him much, he could live with it. Not being able to use the shower in his own damn house however, was not.

He didn't dislike public shower rooms because he thought they were unsanitary or because he didn't like socializing with other people. He disliked it because it involved getting _naked_ in front of other people.

He had discovered in his teens that being gay, in spite of popular beliefs, did not mean that showering with others of the same sex equaled solely good things. Especially not when the hormones in your body were already constantly encouraging your dick to go rigid from more or less anything that happened around you, even when the people surrounding you still had their clothes _on_. He was in no way physically attracted to the other males he happened to share space with, that was not the issue; the problem was that being a teenager meant that you had no control over your own limbs and all it took was for his brain to register the fact of 'hey, naked' and then, game over.

Needless to say it had been a hard time – no pun intended.

Therefore, even though he now as an adult naturally had become more controlled of his own bodily functions, that time had left what could only be referred to as 'mental scarring' and he preferred it if he simply never had put himself in a similar situation ever again. But as it would seem, the plumbers working above his apartment had other plans.

The solution to his problem had been quite obvious from the start, and so he had made a few enquires and come to the conclusion that after six o'clock the showers in the foot people's locker room would be empty because the workers got of at four and if there was anything you could rely on it was the punctuality of a industrial worker when it was time to go home. He had arrived to find the dressing room already with the lights out which made him feel all giddy with relief and he had proceed with undressing himself and then as a second thought placing his belongings inside one of the lockers. There hadn't been any reports of theft here that he was aware of, but Castiel was a man driven by principles and neat habits; leaving his clothes out there for anyone to see just felt wrong to him.

The company shower room was rectangular in shape, the open stalls lined along the right side from the door and hangers to put your towels on decorating the left side, opposite of the showers. The cool air made his skin prickle with goose bumps as he stepped into the open space, being faced with a minor dilemma of which of the fifteen stalls he should use before picking the one in the far corner, furthest away from the door since there were no shower curtains to provide him with any shelter should someone walk in and the thought alone was enough to make his stomach tighten with anxiety. Castiel was what many people would have called a 'shy' person. Castiel himself would have used the word 'socially misadjusted'. He could handle business meetings without any trouble what so ever, gliding through conversations with company vice presidents, directors and executives like a fish through water, but when faced with saying hello to the person standing next to him at the coffee machine his entire brain shut down and he would consider himself lucky if he even managed a smile. Having someone walking in on him while he showered was as mortifying for him as should they have caught him masturbating in the lunch room.

But there was no one here now, he was alone and he resolutely unwrapped the towel from his waist and hung it on one of the metal hangers before he stepped into his stall and turned on the water.

It didn't take long until his body relaxed and the tension slipped away from his shoulders. The shampoo lathered as he rubbed it into his scalp and then proceeded to tend to the rest of his body. As he rinsed it felt as if the uneasiness of being in a public shower was being washed off together with the soap and he found himself smiling when he turned off the water to step out and grab his towel.

That's when the door to the shower room opened and someone walked in.

Castiel froze dead for a split second before he quickly jerked back into the stall once more, pressing his back against the tiled wall as if he was a burglar from a cartoon.

The new appearance whistled happily to himself as he stepped into one of the stalls down the row, Castiel could not determine which one with the way the sound bounced of the walls. Of course it had to be a man, given that this was the men's locker room, but secretly Castiel found himself wishing for it to be a woman, then at least they would both be equally ashamed if he was to be discovered. As silly as it sounded, Castiel actually felt like _he_ was the intruder, the fact that he was a man in the men's locker room completely irrelevant at the moment. He heard the sound of a shower being turned on and Castiel told himself that now would be a good time to simply walk out, grab his towel and leave as quick as possible, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Instead he just stood there, listening to the sound of spraying water coming from the other stall and forcing himself to breathe properly as anxiety set in and made his throat constrict around itself.

He had no idea of how long he spent standing there, but the water on his skin had grown cold and he wondered silently how long this guy planned on staying when a new sound reverbed off of the white tiles. The hair on Castiel's arms stood up, his mouth fell open in shock and then it was heard again.

The moan echoed through the shower room, low and throaty but in no way discreet and Castiel's breath hitched involuntarily at the sound of it. There was no doubt in his mind about what that sound meant and when it was heard the third time he felt his body flush furiously all over.

He knew that he had to leave, that him hearing this was both indecent and unbecoming, but he realized that if he were to walk out of the shower _now_ it would look all kinds of weird. The last thing he wanted was to start a rumor that Castiel the executive spent his evening creeping around in the shower rooms listening to people masturbating. That and the fact that his dick had decided to pick up an interest to the situation made him stay put. Walking out now would be bad enough – walking out with a raging hard on would be downright unbearable! Closing his eyes and doing his best not to think about what was happening a few meters away he couldn't help but to feel confused. What was the other thinking? Had he not seen Castiel's towel hanging there by the wall? Or did he think the towel was left behind, forgotten by someone? But he must have noticed that the lights were on, he had to know that someone else was here… Then why was he doing this?

_Maybe… maybe he likes it? Knowing that someone can hear him…_

The thought made Castiel's stomach knot and his skin to goose bump again, but this time it was not from the chill in the room or the prospects of being caught.

The man had begun to pick up speed and Castiel could hear the wet slapping of skin and water as the man pleasured himself. The moans were getting louder and more earnest and the sound of them made his own cock twitch and strain against his abdomen. How the hell had he managed to end up in this situation?

"Yeah… oh fuck, yes…"

The voice made a shock of arousal shoot up his spine and his eyes snapped open, his mouth barely being able to hold back a whimper. The other man was obviously had no such restrictions, altering now between harsh breaths, guttural groans and bit back obscenities as he jerked himself of faster and Castiel could not fight it any longer. He bit his lower lip when his hand wrapped around his own straining member and started moving.

"Ah shit… sh-…oh fuck…"

Castiel's hand was matching the sound of the stranger's, careful not to make too much noise and perhaps that was the reason, knowing that he had to be quiet, that he must not be heard that made it feel so sinfully good. His body was convulsing and shivering and his fingers were like fire to his skin, the dark rumble from the other man stirring his insides like he never thought were possible.

"Fuck yes, oh it feels so good… stroking my cock just like that… ah…."

The voice conjured a vision inside his head; his hand wrapped around the faceless stranger, jerking him off fast and rough with water sloshing between their bodies, pressed tightly together while his lips trailed hot kisses along the other's jaw and neck and they were coming, sweet Jesus he was coming...!

"Yes… oh yes… yes, yes, _yes_…!"

Castiel's vision whited out when orgasm hit him and he could feel the coppery taste of blood as he bit through the skin of his lip, forcing himself to be quiet while the man down the row rode out his own climax, the sound of spilling semen being drowned out by running water and euphoric moans. Castiel's head lolled back as he slid down against the wall and his free hand came up to muffle the harsh pants that spilled from his mouth. The mystery man was breathing heavily as well and Castiel could picture it, how he slowly stroked himself, member growing limp and pliant in his hand as he milked the last of his orgasm out. He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn't notice how he was doing the same to himself, slowly letting the cooling cum dribble down his hand and onto the floor.

Soon after the water stopped running and Castiel heard the man grab his towel and walk out through the door, but he didn't dare to move from his spot on the floor until the automatic lights powered off, proving that there were no more movement inside the locker room.

He got up on wobbly legs, washed himself off and quickly retrieved his towel from the wall before practically sneaking his way back to the locker where he kept his clothes. He didn't bother with putting on his tie or even his socks, instead he pulled on his trousers and buttoned up his shirt before sliding his naked feet into the shoes, shoving the towel, shampoo bottle and tie into his bag and hurried out the door with his suit jacket flung over his shoulder, doing his best to keep himself from running.

All the way to the parking lot he almost expected to hear someone call out after him and it wasn't until he was safe inside his car that allowed himself to relax even though his heart was beating so hard it made his head ache.

That had been weird… Weird, surreal and…. He didn't know what else to call it.

He met the look from his own eyes in the rear view mirror and almost blushed at himself when the almost shameful notion of what he had just done hit him.

"How the hell am I supposed to go back there now?" he demanded from his reflection, but the mirror did not humor him with an answer.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no way that he was ever going back!

Of all the situations he could have ended up in _that_ had got to have been the most implausible and most embarrassing one of all. It almost made him want to turn his gaze to the sky and ask "why me", because it just wasn't fair!

He was a man of dignity, with morals and good judgment - there was no excuse for his behavior and he felt guilty just thinking about what he had done. Saying that he hadn't meant for it to happen was simply not good enough. Just imagine trying to explain that, had he been caught – 'Oh, this hand right here? The one around my dick? Total accident, not my fault, so very sorry.'

No, he was right in feeling ashamed, normal people didn't _do_ things like that! He _couldn't_ go back, masturbating strangers or not, he didn't have the _right_!

So that's why, when he had finished work the following day, Castiel climbed into his car and went straight to Gabriel's house, clean towel and a change of clothes already in his sports bag.

Gabriel had his apartment not too far from Castiel's own, but it was further away from work than Castiel's place. It wasn't fancy or anything, just well kept; a few families and elderly, but mostly young adults who had gotten to the point in their lives when it suddenly had become favorable to live in a neighborhood where people didn't play loud music into the wee hours of the morning or vandalized the buildings 24-7. All in all it was a pleasant little area, which in Castiel's book meant that he could park his car outside on the street without fear of getting the windows smashed or his stereo stolen.

It didn't take Gabriel long to answer the door and when he opened he lit up like a solar flare at the sight of his visitor.

"Hey bro!" he chimed and Castiel gave him a light nod in response.

"Hello Gabriel. May I come in?"

Gabriel stepped aside and threw his hand out in a theatrically inviting gesture, allowing his little brother to get inside.

"For what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked as he closed the door behind him, eyes gleaming mirthfully. It might have sounded to an outsider as if Castiel's presence in his home was something rare and exotic, but that wasn't true. It was an unspoken agreement they had that Castiel would come over every other Friday and they would get takeout of some kind and just enjoy each other's company while watching a movie or just flip through the channels of the TV. They didn't talk much, but none of them deemed that necessary. The important thing was that they were _there_, seeing as they were the only family they had left since Lucifer got kicked out and Michael refused to talk to any of them anymore. Balthazar was okay, he called from time to time and visited every now and then, but it was clear that it was an act born from obligation rather than affection. Anna was gone, ran away right after their dad did, no-one knew where. During the first year of her absence, Castiel's mind had played tricks on him and he been convinced that he had seen that flaming crown of red hair of hers in every street corner, every subway and every restaurant he ever went to, but that to slowly began to fade away along with the memories of her as the time passed. He had been but a child back then, barely in his teens and he was convinced that he was the only one of the siblings that ever truly believed that she would come back. To this day he could sometimes catch himself wondering if she was even alive. That maybe she was living happily somewhere else by now; had a family and a life that she would never have been able to obtain had she stayed behind with them. Castiel hoped that is was so. He really did.

But Gabriel had always been there. Witty, snarky, sarcastic and infuriatingly stubborn Gabriel. When their father suddenly took off and disappeared and Michael had gone on his emotional rampage, Gabriel had been the one to pull Cas to safety, been the one who stood between him and the bitter cold emptiness that had become of their once so stable family.

Castiel would never be able to repay him for that. He had told his brother this once, and Gabriel had given him a thwack over the head for his trouble and told him to stop acting like such a girl.

It was probably the only time in his life that he had seen Gabriel blush.

But now those hazel eyes in front of him were clear and awake, flickering with the mischief that never left his brother's mind and Castiel could relax, knowing that no matter what happened in his life, Gabriel would always be there to offer him a hand whenever he needed it.

He held out his gym bag and rustled it slightly.

"I'd like to ask if I could borrow your shower. The water in my apartment has been cut off."

Over by the sofa, Gabriel's dog Bingo, a little black and white Jack Russell, raised his head and wagged his tail at Castiel in silent greeting when he heard his voice. Gabriel shrugged and walked over to the couch, flopping down on it with arms leisurely folded behind his head.

"Hey, _mi casa es su casa_. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you."

Gabriel picked up a bottle of beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him and when Castiel walked in front of the TV to get to the bathroom he grumbled something incoherent that Cas suspected was directed towards his trench coat to make it stop blocking the view. Judging by the little running men on the screen his brother was watching a football game of some sort. Castiel had never bothered with following any sports at all so he had no clue if the teams on the screen played for the minor or major leagues, but when it came to Gabriel leagues simply didn't matter as long as it was sports – every game was of equal importance, so when Castiel opened the door to the bathroom the other simply waved his hand in his general direction without even taking his eyes off the screen.

"Let the tap run for a while before you get in." he advised. "It takes a second or two for the thermostat to even out and you'll end up with third degree burns all over your body if you're not careful." Castiel could not express in words how thankful he was that his brother still had enough presence of mind to mention that little detail.

The shower was hot, but thanks to Gabriel he got through it without any incidents and once he was clean and dry with new clothes on he returned to the living room and joined his brother on the sofa, giving Bingo a few scratches behind his ears on his way over.

"Beer?" Gabe picked up a bottle from the conveniently placed cooler next to the armrest and offered it to him, eyes still intently fixed on the TV, but Castiel turned it down.

"I'm driving." He said and Gabriel shrugged.

"So, take the buss." He nudged the flask a bit closer.

"I hate the buss, you know that."

Gabriel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Cas, you hate _everything_ that forces you to interact with other people. I'll call you a cab, c'mon."

The bottle was insistently pushed into his hand and Castiel sighed.

"Alright, but only if you actually _pay_ for it this time."

Gabriel placed his own bottle over his heart in a grand gesture.

"Scout's honor." He swore proudly.

"You were never in the scouts." Castiel pointed out calmly, but Gabriel just shrugged.

"No, but you were there enough for the both of us, so I'm good for it."

Castiel grimaced at the memory. His father had thought it to be a great help for his 'social skills' if he got out and interacted with other young men his age, but Castiel was convinced that it had only made matters worse. If there was one thing he hated more than crowding with people in confined spaces, it was getting dirty, and as a boy scout you were _always_ dirty.

Gabriel watched him unscrew the cap of his beer and take the first mouthful before he settled back against the couch, eyes flickering between his brother and the ongoing game.

"So, why the sudden shower-shortage at your place? Did you use up all the hot water again?" Gabriel averted his eyes from the screen long enough to give him a puppy dog-look filled with acted consolation, but Castiel ignored him.

"Apparently something caused the pressure in the pipes to rise and the fixtures didn't hold. There's water leakage on almost every floor." He winced at the memory. "They've got it under control now, there's not going to be that many permanent damages, but until they get the new pipes they're going to have to keep the water shut down. I cook with water I get from work." He added, just to let Gabriel understand the severity of the problem.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, almost looking impressed.

"Wow. Sounds like a situation alright." He narrowed his eyes. "But if you're hoarding water from the office, why not use the showers they have there as well? Oh wait, I forgot," he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, pretending that he had _just_ remembered something very important. "You get stage fright."

"I do not get stage fright." Castiel objected.

"Sure, whatever, we can call it cold feet if it makes you feel better."

"It doesn't." Castiel assured him. "And I did go there yesterday, but then-…" he cut himself off, but Gabriel had already detected the hesitation in his voice, eyes digging into the side of his face in that annoyingly knowing way that only a true big brother could manage.

"But then…?" he urged and Castiel sighed, taking another drink from his bottle. Gabriel watched him intently, and Cas knew that there was no escaping now. His brother would harass him to the end of days until he finally broke and told him the truth. Castiel had never been able to lie to Gabriel – not that he hadn't tried, because God knew he had, ever since they were kids – and he knew for a fact that the other man was stubborn as a mule when he wanted something.

"I was alone, and someone came in." he finally said, fixing his eyes on TV screen in front of them, mostly because he didn't want to see the infuriating way Gabriel's eyes would light up with curiosity at the information.

"Oh?" Guess turning around wasn't enough, Cas could _hear_ the mirth sparkle in brother's voice as suddenly the football game had been rudely shoved down to spot number two on Gabriel's list of things he had to know the outcome of today.

"Someone came in…" Castiel repeated, trying to figure out a way to say it that wouldn't send his brother's perverted imagination on a field trip, but then his own brain reminded him that accomplishing such a feat would be downright impossible.

"_Someone came in_." Gabriel was growing impatient, repeating Castiel's words with a suggestive wave of his hand to make him continue and Castiel took a deep breath, steeling himself.

"… and began… pleasuring himself."

It was the silence before the storm and for a few seconds the only thing being heard was the excited blabbering of the narrator's voice coming form the TV, but then Gabriel's face split up in a grin so feral Castiel almost expected to see fangs.

"Was it good for you?" he asked sweetly and Castiel barely managed to stop the blush that threatened to creep up his face, because no, Gabriel could not know about _that_ part, not ever!

"I don't think he realized that I was there." He said instead "He appeared… wrapped up in his own business."

"I can imagine." Gabriel mused before falling back against the couch, laughing hysterically as the calm mask he had tried to withhold crumbled and fell off in an embarrassingly loud fit of gloating mirth. Castiel sat quietly, blush spreading on his cheeks without his consent and listened to his brother's manic giggles, waiting for him to regain his ability to speak.

"So-so you just _stayed_ there and _listened_ throughout the whole thing?" Gabriel finally managed to choke out, tears streaming from his eyes and that's why Cas really _loathed_ his brother sometimes, because if there was one question in a sea of questions that Castiel did not want to be asked, one could make sure that Gabe would be the one to ask it, on the first go nonetheless.

"It seemed rude to embarrass him." He grumbled and this time Gabriel threw his head back and _howled_ with laughter. Bingo sat up from his bed and looked at his owner, tilting his head as if he had trouble deciding whether the sounds coming from Gabriel were an indication of pain or joy.

"Oh my _god_! Who would have thought my baby brother would turn into such a _creeper_!"

"I did not _creep_." Castiel objected sourly, but that only made Gabriel laugh even harder and there was no doubt that Castiel was blushing now because his face felt as if he had just taken it out of a heated oven.

"So that's why you came here?" Gabriel chimed in between gasps as he fought for air. "Because you ended up in an involuntary peep-show?"

"I didn't _watch_ him! I don't even know what he looked like..."

"But _still_, you were _there_, man! Do you have any idea of how hilarious that is?"

Castiel looked the wet stripes of tears that covered his brother's face.

"I can imagine." He said dryly.

"Aw, Jesus…" Gabriel sat up, wiping his eyes and chuckled. "And _you_ who can't even buy underwear without stuttering. You must have been a _mess_."

"Quite literally, yes." Castiel agreed. Technically it wasn't a lie and unless he made a big deal out of it Gabriel would never be able to figure out what _kind_ of mess he was referring to.

"So I guess this is the part where you ask if I could spare my bathroom to your ministrations for a while longer?" Gabriel mused and Castiel took another gulp of beer.

"If it's doesn't cause you inconvenience." He said calmly, because hey, manners.

"Or…" his brother placed a long finger against the bridge of his nose. "…we could both start using the showers at your job. I'd like to get a look at this mystery-man myself." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Castiel raised a brow at his brother's perverted face.

"I thought you were already seeing someone?"

"I am." Gabriel said, almost sounding offended. "Or I will be. On Tuesday. Give me some credit will ya?"

Castiel scowled.

"What happened to that blonde girl, Karol something?"

"With a C." Gabriel confirmed before leaning back. "Turned out she wasn't as into me as I though. Or any other guy for that matter. She's living with her girlfriend now. They're very happy."

"I'm sorry." Castiel said, more out of duty than actual concern because he had never even met the girl so it was a little hard to relate.

"Naaw, don't be." Gabriel waved him off. "It was all for the better, actually. You should see the guy I'm dating now – Jesus, I swear I could fry pancakes on his abs, he's so hot!"

"The guy you're seeing on Tuesday?" Castiel asked, just to make sure. With Gabriel one could never know for certain.

"Yeah, my very own Adonis." Gabriel licked his lips in an excessive pornographic motion. "Good enough to eat."

"I think I get the picture." Castiel smiled. "I'm happy for you."

Gabriel sent a playful glare at him.

"You damn well better be. I expect nothing but encouragement from you in this matter, or I'm going to punish you by putting a time-lock on the shower."

Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"It was _one_ time, Gabriel. Let it go."

"Now what kind of a brother would I be if I did that? Besides, how am I supposed to shower if you wash all the hot water down the drain?"

"I was _five_!"

"Yeah, and cute as a button to." Gabriel smirked.

Castiel glowered at him.

"May I remind you that it was actually _your_ fault? _You_ told me it was one of those new, modern showers that turned themselves off when you left the bathroom."

"I though it was." Gabriel shrugged, obviously not sorry.

"You're unbelievable." Castiel snorted.

"I prefer the term mind-baffling."

"You're an ass."

"And you're a creeper – I win."

"I didn't _creep_!"

"Dude, you were _so_ creeping!"

"Shut up."

"Ass."

"Butt."

Gabriel took a deep swig from his bottle and settled back against the couch.

"Creepstiel..."

There was a distinctive '_twack_' heard over the blaring from the TV when Castiel's hand made impact with the back of Gabriel's head.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Castiel had a way of doing things by routine almost every day. It was essential for his mental wellbeing and also for ensuring that he didn't end up with his agenda completely scrambled, bits and pieces of his careful planning scattered around all over the place. Whenever he was forced to break said routines, for whatever reason, the remains of the day would inevitably end in utter failure or worse. Today was one of those days, and it had started early...

Life had decided to greet him with a classic this morning; a malfunctioning alarm clock. Instead, he had been rudely awakened by the wireless phone on his bedside table, ringing of the hook and sending shrilling spikes of discomfort through his head. He seriously needed to get that ringtone changed – if he ever figured out _how_.

Grabbing the device he tried to clear the gravel out of his throat - why did people do that anyway? It wasn't like sleeping would become something shameful the very moment you were caught doing it. – And picked up.

"Hello…?" he grumbled, trying to shake the fuzzy haze that clouded the insides of his skull.

"Cas? It's me, Becky."

"Becky?" Cas's head immediately cleared at the sound of his secretary's voice. "Why are you calling this early?"

"Early?" There was a confused pause. "Castiel, you do know that it's almost half passed nine, right?"

Castiel jerked into sitting position, covers pooling by his waist.

"What?!"

"Yeah… uh, I was just calling to check if you were sick. You have a meeting in-…"

"Shit…!"

He scrambled to his feet, sleep induced mind making way for the panic rapidly kicking to the surface.

"Cas?"

"I'll be right there." He assured her, scanning the room in search of his clothes. "Tell the board I got stuck in traffic or something."

"You want me to-?" Becky almost sounded terrified, but Cas didn't have the time for moral high grounds at the moment.

"Lie, yes, that would be great. Thank you Becky."

He hung up before she could say anything else and threw the phone onto the bed before cursing out loud for the second time.

Trousers, socks, shirt and jacket came on in a jumbled flourish. The hair could have been worse so it would have to do, breakfast was out of the question and he knew that his tie was hanging crocked and askew from his neck as he grabbed his briefcase, but he would simply have to fix it later.

Traffic was lousy, but at least it made him feel less guilty for making Becky lie for him. He arrived at his destination exactly three minutes before the meeting was due and he swore that he had never been on a slower elevator ride in his _life_!

There were more than a few raised eyebrows at the sight of him as he entered the conference room and it wasn't until he had already murmured out the low apology about traffic that he realized that this didn't explain his haphazard state of attire the slightest. No one said anything about it though.

The meeting was slow and boring; just a long, tedious walkthrough of numbers and calculations. Very important, of course, but horribly, horribly dull. Castiel preferred the meetings that actually lead to something that would contribute to a better functionality around the company. These meetings were scarce however and instead he had to endure times like this, listening to old men blabber about savings and efficiency rates. Apparently something, somewhere wasn't providing the profits the board wanted it to, even though it _was_ a profit; it just didn't reach up to that final billion that they would have liked and they were now discussing alternate ways of getting that billion, which of course could mean only one thing… Castiel hated it when they talked cut backs, because if there was one thing sure as amen after a sermon, it was that if anything got cut back on, it would never be the salaries or privileges of the men sitting around this very table. It was always the little guys, the very people working double shifts already that made the company go round that would have to take the hit, not these old farts.

Castiel was the youngest member there, and even he was only allowed because of a formality. He didn't have much of a say, especially since his opinion in this matter wasn't considered very appropriate. So he sat there, trying to concentrate on the grinding voice belonging to Zachariah, the bald little suit standing at the front of the long table, pointing to a screen and feeding them with statistics especially brought forward in order to strengthen his cause. Zachariah drove an expensive car, wore a tailored suit, got his nails manicured at least once every other week and Castiel was convinced that he also bleached his teeth, making that fake smile of his look even faker. Castiel despised the man with every fiber of his body.

The meeting dragged over and when it was finally time for lunch Castiel was so hungry he thought he was going to die. He went to the cafeteria, thinking that he would just buy something quick from there and then eat it by his desk. He needed to catch up with the time he had missed out on this morning anyway and that's when life decided to punch him in the face for the second time when he realized that his wallet was still lying on the kitchen table in his apartment.

It was Becky's turn to save him yet again and even though he refused to let her pay for an entire meal she insisted on sharing the food she had brought along for herself, claiming she had overdone the portion size anyway. It actually tasted pretty good, and he had to admit that there was something pleasantly nice about sitting by her desk and just talk for a while. His dear assistant could come across as a bit eccentric at first, but Castiel didn't mind since he wasn't exactly considered to be socially perfect himself and they functioned well together. Like now, Becky talking and Castiel nodding in agreement as he chewed his food, they were complementing each other in their own way; she being incapable of silence and him being awkwardly polite enough not to interrupt and all in all forgetting his wallet turned out to be not all that bad.

The day slumped on, and even though he did his best to stay positive at the end of the day - after having his computer freeze up on him and thusly forcing him to rewrite an entire report once over, wrestled with the printer in the copy room and also spilling coffee all over his suit jacket and on top of that being forced to work late - he was in no mood for any more of fate's cruel jokes.

He didn't care how much Gabriel would hate him for it, tonight he was going to use up every single drop of hot water during his shower and then he was going _home_. The thought of his bed filled him up so completely that when he arrived at his brother's house and rang the doorbell it took him a few moments to notice that it was abnormally quiet on the other side of the door.

He rang the bell again, but no one came to answer. What the hell?

Making sure no one was around to see him he bent down and peered inside through the mail shoot. There were no lights on inside and there was no sign of Bingo either. Obviously Gabriel wasn't home.

"Oh, come on…"

He pulled out his cellphone and flipped it open, scrolling through the very few names in his phonebook until he reached Gabriel's name and dialed.

Frustration rose like bile in his throat as the tone rang in his ear, threatening to spill over when Gabriel picked up first after what must have been the twentieth ring.

"Dude, _what_?" he grumbled through the phone and Castiel forced himself to take a deep breath.

"I'm outside you're apartment." He snapped. "Where are you?"

"Not there, obviously." Jeez, he sounded real pissy, but then his brother's voice softened slightly. "Bro, it's _Tuesday_."

It took Castiel's brain a few moments, but then it finally clicked.

"It's Tuesday." He repeated dumbly before wincing inwardly. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot."

There was a brief silence and now Castiel could hear the swirl of talking voices and the clutter of tableware coming from the background. Gabriel must be in a restaurant or something.

"You sound like someone pissed in your cereal this morning." his brother said. "Something wrong?"

Castiel snorted.

"A lot of things actually, but none involving cereals." He dragged a tired hand through his hair. "I suppose you don't have a spare key lying around somewhere?" he asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"Sorry bro, no dice." Gabriel actually did sound sorry.

"Oh."

There was a second, unfamiliar male voice heard on the other side of the line, but Castiel couldn't make out the words.

"Naw, just my brother." Castiel raised a brow as there were more words, sounding curious.

"No, he just wanted to borrow something of mine." Then Gabriel laughed. "You worry too much, babe, Cas is a big boy, he can take care of himself - and don't you go getting any perverted ideas about that one, creeper." He added to Castiel.

"Ass." Castiel said automatically.

"Butt." Gabriel answered, smiling even through the phone and for a short moment Castiel actually felt a bit better.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Sorry again for interrupting."

"Hey, don't sweat it."

"Have fun."

He flipped the phone shut, ending the call and trudged back to his car, getting behind the wheel. He only had one option left and even though he seriously contemplated the action of simply going home, the thought about not having a shower was like an itch beneath his skin. He wanted a shower. He _needed _that shower.

Thirty minutes later he parked his car, threw a final, determined look at himself in the rearview mirror and then got out of his car, heading for the main entrance of the office building. He had to use his keycard and code to get inside and turn the alarm off, but when he reached the corridor separating the office building from the workshop premises the alarm was not on yet. He scowled and looked around, but there were no people to be seen. The last person out must have forgotten to activate it when they left, it happened sometimes…

It was quiet, and the automatic lights whirred and flickered on in time as the sensors registered him walking down the hallways. He still had not heard or seen a single soul when he reached the locker rooms, but he wasn't surprised. It was late and everyone seemed to have gone home; the machine hall lying dark and empty.

He didn't bother with placing his possessions in a locker this time, he simply threw them on top of the nearest bench, pulled his shampoo and towel out from the bag and headed for the showers, too peeved and annoyed at everything to even care about covering himself up with it.

The hot spray of water was like bliss against his skin and he wasted no time pouring shampoo into his hands and then proceeding to spread it over himself until he was thoroughly covered in lather and large, fluffy suds.

He was meticulously enjoying himself getting clean when he heard the door swing open and footsteps enter the room. He stilled, feeling his heart begin to race but he willed it down. He sharply told himself that he wasn't doing anything wrong; he was just enjoying his shower. He had _earned_ this shower damnit and no one was going to steal that away from him, not even his own absurd fears or freaky exhibitionists!

So he continued showering even if he turned so that his back was facing outwards, ignoring the little skip his stomach made when the shower next to his was turned on. Sound of double sets of water hitting skin was now echoing in the white room and Castiel tried to relax, but he wasn't allowed the luxury for long before he heard the quickening of breath rise from the other side of the stall.

His gut turned to ice, hands freezing against his skin as the same voice he had heard the other day started panting, Castiel's mouth falling open in shock because there was no way that this was all a coincidence. This time it was evidently clear that the other knew he was there and he still-…!

For some reason the thought made him furious. After this entire day of epic failure, _this_ was the last fucking thing he needed to be put through, _again_, so he cleared his throat, loud and audible enough for it to be heard throughout the whole room.

There was a hitch of breath, and for a moment Castiel thought he had succeeded in his task, but then the man on the other side let out a low moan.

"Do you _mind_?" Castiel snapped, and this time there was silence, only sound heard being water flushing down the drain.

The stranger let out a long shaky breath and then he actually had the audacity to _laugh_.

"What? You've gone prude all of a sudden?"

Castiel frowned. There was no embarrassment in that voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he gruffed.

Water sloshed and Castiel could really have done without the suggestive images his brain produced at that sound.

"Just that you didn't seem to mind so much last time."

Something panged low in Castiel's gut at the words.

"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else." He said, reaching for his shampoo bottle because he was leaving, like right the fuck now.

"You wanna tell me that there are two people at this company who has a towel like that?"

Castiel turned around and looked at his towel to see what the other was talking about.

It was true; he had brought the same, blue towel that he had used last week – navy blue with a pattern of white and black stripes along the edges, nothing particularly eye-catching about it at all... It wasn't the newest addition to his linen closet, he admitted to that, but it fulfilled its purpose just fine.

"Especially one with a torn edge like that corner there?" The other added and Castiel jaw clenched because he could hear the smug smile evidently in the tone of his voice. When Cas didn't answer he continued.

"Hey, there's no need to be embarrassed, I got off on it to didn't I?"

"I did not get off on anything." Castiel snarled back, feeling heat rise on his cheeks, but the other just laughed again.

"Dude, you weren't exactly _quiet_."

He was lying, Castiel had not made a sound, he was sure of it. He had to be lying.

He had to be.

"But like I said, there's no need to get your panties in a twist." He continued and Castiel heard the sound of soap being squirted out from a bottle.

"In case you've missed it, those garments are for women." he retorted acidly, fisting his hands. Just who the hell did this guy think he was?

"You're right, my mistake. I bet a guy like you wears boxers anyway. Like the dark ones out there, the kind that wrap snug and holds everything in place."

"You went through my clothing?!" Castiel spluttered and his seeping anger gave way for startled shock.

"Your stuff's lying tossed around all over the place, they're pretty hard to miss."

"That doesn't give you the right to-…!"

"Mmm, I bet you look nice in that suit to." The voice on the other side of the wall suddenly moaned silently. "Like sex on legs…"

The sloshing was back, softer and slower this time, but evidently clear and Cas swallowed hard.

"Bet you'd look even hotter taking it off… You sound like a guy who could put on a real show if you wanted to… voice all gravely and hoarse like that… It's like it was _made_ for sex."

Castiel didn't know how to respond to that, he had no fucking clue. Instead he just stood there, blushing five shades of red as the stranger continued, the flow of water distorted as he clearly stroked himself under the steaming spray of water.

"I'd like to hear you when you touch yourself... Bet you get real loud, don't you? I'm sure you were trying real hard to stay quiet that last time…"

Castiel's breath quickened, pulse rising. Had he been that obvious? Had he?

"I thought about how you'd do that…" the stranger continued lazily. "Ngh… hands touching all over… rubbing yourself off to the sound of my voice… wishing I was right in there with you…"

"Stop." Castiel ordered, but his trembling voice fell on deaf ears, his body reacting to the imagery in his head while his heart pounded furiously in his chest, sending all blood straight south.

"I'd touch you, you know." The other moaned. "I'd touch you just like I'm touching myself right now. Hand on your cock, all hot and swollen for me…"

Castiel's voice hitched and he heard the other's movement speed up. The water running over his body was warm and steaming, but it felt cold compared to the heat that flashed through his body listening to that intoxicating ramble from the other side of the tiles. The mysterious man's voice was low and throaty, rumbling like thunder as he kept talking, describing in detail how he would jerk him off, how he would squeeze and rub, stroke and drag along skin and Castiel had to forcefully slap a hand over his own mouth to keep himself from moaning. His erection was hanging stiff and unattended between his legs, twitching and begging for attention with every sentence from the other male.

"I'd go down on you to…" he gasped, words rushing from his lips now. "Wrap my lips… around your cock and s-suck you off… fuck… I-I'd let my tongue… ha… lick you while I stroked you up and down… and I… oh shit… Oh yes… yes... yes, _fuck_!"

The sound of the other one's climax made Castiel's stomach clench and his head to sear and had he been a teenager with a little less control of himself he would probably have spilled his own release right there, touched or not. He was so hard he ached and he wanted to reach down and fist himself fast and rough, but he was too furious and too proud to give the other the satisfaction of knowing this fucked up situation made him hard in the first place. It was confusing as hell because if there was something Castiel had never been into it was voyeurism! The thought that he had more or less spied on some unknown person without their knowledge had given him nausea just the other day, but now things were tremendously different. The other had admitted to knowing he had not been alone when he had pleasured himself, and Castiel's guilt converted into anger because now he felt _used_, taken advantage of simply because of the fact that he had been _there_ as this guy had decided to have his not-so-private session with himself. The fury raging in his chest was almost enough to rival the strain in his groin, but barely so. This guy was sick! A pervert getting off on other people's humiliation and Castiel was not about to humor him the slightest.

When the other's breath slowed down, getting more even, Castiel swallowed once more, willing the tremble he knew would be in his voice down before speaking.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked dryly, making sure to pour every ounce of disgust, sarcasm and poison into the tone as he could manage.

"Oh yeah..." The other moaned and Castiel almost threw his fist into the wall because obviously the other guy wasn't even smart enough to take a god damn hint!

"I suppose the thought of me listening really does it for you then." He snarled and when the other spoke there was now evident hurt and confusion in his voice where satisfaction had been only moments earlier.

"Hey, I never forced you to stay. If it pissed you off so much you could've just left…"

Castiel turned his head and glared at the stranger through the wall.

"I have the right to be here just as much as you do."

"I never said you didn't. Fuck, what's your deal anyway?"

"_My_ deal?!" Castiel almost choked on his own voice. "Say's the one who get's his kicks from jumping people in public showers!"

"I haven't touched you, asshole." The other growled. "And if you want to leave then just do so. Or _maybe_…" he quipped, "the reason you're so upset is that you're not able to admit that this actually turns you on to!"

"It has nothing t-…!" Castiel began, but the man obviously didn't want to listen but continued;

"You must have found something worth staying for since you're still here! I'm not an idiot!"

"I'm not-…"

"And if the things you do somehow triggers your inner homophobe, then fine!" he snapped. "I've been around that part of town before, I know what that feels like, but it doesn't give you the right to take your shit out on me!"

"Would you _shut up_?!" Castiel was actually yelling. "I'm not a homophobe you perverted jerk; I'm _gay_! The reason I'm pissed off right now is that you just assume that just because I'm still _here_ that somehow makes whatever this shit you think you're playing at _okay_!"

He was so furious he was shaking and the thought of just walking around that infuriating wall and punch the guy in the face was so tempting he almost forgot the fact that he was naked.

"I just wanted a god damn shower!"

His words echoed in the stunned silence that followed. Water poured and the steam was billowing around him, swirling white against the square of tiles. His erection was slowly fading away, forgotten in the shadow of the angry red heat that slowly unfurled within him.

"Fine." The voice gritted out, anger threading through the word like venom. "Then don't let me disturb you."

The rush of water ended abruptly and then there were feet stomping across the floor and the loud wince of the locker room door as it was flung open with a vicious pull.

Castiel stood in the hot spray of his own shower, limbs shaking and teeth gnashing together while humiliation, anger and unfulfilled urges crowded and clawed inside his chest like a wild animal trying to escape a cage.

Great! Fucking _perfect_!

He fisted his hand and then slammed it with full force into the wall by his head, his momentary satisfaction immediately overrun by the sharp flash of pain that shot down his arm and settled throughout the length of the limb like a dull throb. The wall didn't even give him a gratifying sound in return, just the low, unwavering slap of wet flesh against ceramic.

He grabbed his shampoo bottle, turned off the shower and then tore his towel of the hanger, following the stranger's path out the door. The locker room was empty when he entered, a puddle of water near one of the lockers being the only trace of another person ever being there. Clothes were put on with twitchy motions, every garment adjusted deliberately methodically in order to keep the heat bubbling just beneath the surface from spilling over the edge.

The ride home went remarkably smoothly, as if the world had finally decided to cut him some slack, but it didn't bring him any sense of fulfillment. He didn't bother to unpack his wet towel, not sure if he'd be able to stand the sight of the damn thing right now and instead went straight to bed, leaving his clothes in a scattered trail from the hall to the bed room. And if his brain willed forth the memory of a throaty voice gasping out obscenities through the haze of running water while he jerked himself off later it was totally without his consent.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Creepstiel" XD

Please feel free to review - they are very much welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

The weeks that followed were horrible.

No matter how hard he tried he just wasn't able to get the thought of the mystery male out of his head. It was infuriating to say the least, because the man was in every way _despicable_ and an obvious asshole, but that didn't seem to matter to his raging libido. The intoxicating memory of the words the stranger had said while getting off in the shower next to him clung to the inside of his skull and followed him everywhere and it was driving him crazy!

He found his thoughts straying away from his work more and more often to the point where he actually wondered why he even bothered going to the board meetings anymore. Instead he found himself listening in on conversations whenever he ventured outside his own department, unconsciously hoping to hear the sound of that specific voice again. Sometimes he would catch himself in the act, slowing down when passing a group of people in the hallway or lingering by the coffee machine, and he would get so ashamed of himself that he often ended up lashing out at any unfortunate coworker who happened to be around to disturb him. Poor Becky barely had the nerve to bring him coffee anymore…

It went so far that he even considered walking down to Human Resources to ask if anyone at the company had been working longer than usual lately, but in the end he refrained from it, his courage and energy faltering the moment he got up from his desk… Sure, the mystery man used the showers designated to the workshop personnel, but that didn't mean that he actually worked by the machine halls. Just like Castiel he could work in any part of the big structure and then use the showers before he went home. Technically, doing so wasn't allowed, but Castiel was not about to tell anyone seeing as he did the same thing himself. Also, he did not want anybody snooping around in the locker rooms until he had water back in his apartment; one weirdo was quite enough. Or as things were developing below his waistline whenever his mind raised the subject of the other man – _two_ weirdoes.

It was wearing him down, slowly but surely. He had to stay alert and focused at all times, because if he allowed his thoughts to stray too far for even a second he would often snap back to reality only to find himself semi-hard in his trousers and he would have to fight the urge to lock his office door, fold the blinds and take care of the problem himself right there by his desk. He never does though and instead he tries his best to will the disobedient erection down by burying himself in statistics and work, which by the end of each day leaves his head completely drained and defenseless from the suggestive thoughts that take over the very moment he gets into his car and leaves the parking lot. At one point he even had to stop, traffic being far too hectic and his brain far too lost in the thoughts of hot showers and raspy voices that he almost got himself hit by another vehicle. He had pulled to the side and parked by an abandoned workers plant and it only took a few hard rubs from his hand shoved down the front of his trousers before he came so hard he almost blacked out. The rest of the ride home went smoothly, but the shame of his own desperation and the feel of cooling come against his skin was eating him up from the inside out.

He was slowly loosing his mind.

And to make matters even worse the people working with the pipes in his building had screwed up royally and ordered the wrong parts for the repairs, so now they had to wait for the mess to get sorted and for the correct parts to arrive before they could even continue. In his frustration he had ended up staying at his brother's to save time and money. Driving back and forth between three locations every day wasn't exactly cheap.

During this time he tries his best not to show Gabriel any signs of the things going through his head, which only adds to the frustration because he's not allowed to relax for as much as a second. Gabe was like a bloodhound whenever he suspected that something was off, and Castiel did not want him to go poking his nose into this! For Castiel, this means that every day is a long, seemingly infinite stretch of repressed urges, but when he goes to sleep on Gabriel's sofa at night his body rips the controls away from him and he somehow always ends up with his hand wrapped around himself and biting the pillows to keep his sounds muffled so that his brother won't hear. He hadn't realized just how loud his breathing actually got when he masturbated until the new and unfamiliar silence of Gabe's apartment had settled around him when the lights went out and the last thing he wanted right now was to give Gabriel something new to tease him for. Perhaps the stranger hadn't been lying about being able to hear him after all…

His new, irritable state of mind didn't go his sibling by unnoticed however.

One Friday morning he came into the kitchen and found Gabriel in front of the fridge, gulping down milk straight out of the carton, a half eaten sandwich lying on the counter next to him.

"Do you _have_ to do that?" he snapped to which Gabriel answered by simply humming out a "mmhm" into the packing, not even breaking away for air.

"It's distasteful." He added, more insistent.

Gabriel sighed contently and put the carton down on the countertop.

"We need more milk." He announced.

"Then I _suppose_ you're going to have to buy some _more_." Castiel bit back, earning a raised brow from the hazel eyed man.

"My, are we bitchy today." He hopped up on the counter and took a greedy bite out of his sandwich, peanut butter and jelly dripping down on his fingers only to get sucked away with a childishly satisfied pop moments later.

"We seriously need to get your ass laid soon, or you'll end up hurting some poor bastard before the week is over."

"Perhaps _some_ bastards would deserve it." Cas quipped with a glare, but Gabriel just grinned around his food in response to the threat.

"You know, my pet moose might have a friend you'd like. If you behave I could ask him to introduce you?"

"No thanks," Castiel muttered into his coffee. "I'm still trying to forget the last time you tried to fix me up with someone."

"Bro, I had _no idea_ Raphael would be like that! He seemed like such a nice guy when I met him; I honestly thought the two of you would hit it off."

"Oh, there was nothing wrong with him." Castiel drawled. "Except that he was a three times my size and tried to fuck me into the backseat of his van before we even got to the restaurant."

"Yeah, one could think he'd at least have manners enough to buy you dinner _first_." Gabriel agreed sarcastically.

"It was a wonder I got out of there in one piece."

"I suppose a foot to the crotch and a broken nose kinda kills the mood, huh?"

"Well, he deserved it." Castiel grumbled.

"Indeed..." Gabriel's bright eyes darkened momentarily but then he jumped off the counter and gave him a punch to the arm. "C'mon, Rocky, cheer up! Know what? Sam and I are going out tonight, you should come with us."

"Sam?" Castiel asked in confusion.

"Yeah, Sam. You know… my _moose_." He offered as an explanation when he realized Castiel had no idea who he was talking about. Castiel raised a skeptic eyebrow because now the nickname suddenly made even less sense than it had before – what likeness did the name 'Sam' have with 'Moose'?

His brother saw the expression on his face and waved his hand dismissively.

"Don't worry, you'll get it when you see him."

Castiel shook his head.

"No, I'd just be in the way. I'll stay in tonight, do some reading."

"You sure? Because you could use a little something-something to get your head screwed on straight if you know what I mean." He winked at him. "As a matter of fact, there's this beautiful little club downtown where they specialize in-…"

"Gabriel…" Castiel threatened, because whatever that club was famous for, if it came from his brother he did not want to hear it.

Gabriel shrugged.

"Fine, suit yourself." He sauntered up to the front door, grabbing his jacket from a hanger on the way. "But if you change your mind you have my number!" he called out just before the door slammed shut behind him, never giving Cas a chance to answer.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Castiel actually _did_ think about taking his brother up on the offer of joining them later that evening, but every time he was about to flip the phone open and call he changed his mind, settling back into the sofa with a tired sigh.

What difference would it make? Even if he went out he still wouldn't have the courage to actually talk to anyone. And even if he _did_ somehow manage to produce something that could resemble a proper conversation it still wouldn't do him any good.

He had lost interest in the TV a long time ago, his book left forgotten on the coffee table with a partially eaten microwaved dinner, already cold, sitting next to it. His entire body was itching, restless and impatient, but not for food or entertainment. Of course he knew what it was his subconscious wanted, of course he did. The thought had been in the back of his mind for days; it was like a craving, something gnawing at him from the inside out and it was new and unfamiliar and disturbing and he hated it!

He was not denying that the events with the faceless stranger had left the conception of his own sexuality rattled and confused, but during the past week he had come to terms with the fact that yes, they had excited him. The thoughts and memories of the other's actions were haunting him constantly, that voice echoing and whispering to him in the back of his head during every waking our of the day only to get even stronger when night fell and Castiel actually regretted the tantrum he had thrown during their last meeting.

He had never been one to indulge in emotionally detached sexual relations, but this once he was actually toying with the idea. If he hadn't said the things he had said, if he had just let things evolve, who knew what could have happened?

But the thought also scared him, because what if someone found out? Doing such a thing at the local bath house or any other place would have been one thing, but this was his workplace! No matter which way he turned he could not deny the fact that if he was ever to be caught doing such a thing with a male coworker it could potentially risk his entire career. He hadn't told anyone at work about his inclination towards other men, for obvious reasons, but on the other hand the topic had never been brought up. It wasn't like it was written in the company policy that homosexuality was unwelcomed, but considering that people like Zachariah and his henchmen were the ones pulling the strings Castiel wouldn't be surprised if there was a clause hidden in there somewhere. He had no intention of lying about his sexual orientation, but he wasn't sure if risking his job for a quick hump after hours was something he was prepared to do. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair, but it was the truth.

So here he was, sitting alone in his brother's apartment on a Friday night, his stomach stirring and head lost in thoughts of a man he had no identity or description of except for a sex-crazed voice, unable to do anything about it because he was too damn worried about his reputation.

Now didn't that paint a pretty picture?

His thoughts drifted to his brother.

Gabriel would never have let such a trivial thing as reputation stop him. Gabriel took what he wanted when he wanted it and if anyone dared to comment he would give them the proudest middle finger in the history of mankind and then go about his business with a grin plastered all over his face.

Castiel sighed, pulled out his phone, glared at the screen and then put it back into his pocket. He wondered if there was anyone working late tonight… if there was someone using the showers right now…

A vision hit him then, like a slap to the face; the vision of someone else standing in the shower he had used himself not too long ago, listening to the same low growl that had come to change Castiel's entire world with just the hitch of a breath and enjoying it like Castiel had only done in the safety of his own home and the thought made him fist his hands in his lap only to stand up with an aggravated huff moments later.

He wasn't jealous! The idea was preposterous! Why would he be jealous of such a thing? It wasn't like he cared about if that pervert did… _that_ with other people! He paced back and forth in front of the TV, throwing angry glances at himself in the reflection of the dark window. Bingo looked up from his bed by the door and gave him a confused look.

"Like I care about what he does." Castiel said heatedly and the little terrier tilted his head slightly to the left in response.

"It's not like there's anything special about him – he's just a voice!"

Head tilts right.

"And even if he _wasn't_ doing that with someone else, I've already told him to stay away from me, so there's really no point in thinking about it."

Head tilts left.

"It's not like he'd be happy to hear from me again."

Head tilts right again, followed by a low whine. Castiel stopped his pacing and looked down at the dog.

"You think he'd…?" he didn't bother finishing his sentence; he just shook his head violently, taking up his angry stomping once more.

"Even if I went and he – by some miracle – happened to be there, what the hell would I say to him?" he threw his arms out and Bingo whimpered and rested his head onto his paws.

"It's not like 'Sorry I called you a freak, could you please go back to verbally fucking my brains out?' is an apology..."

Bingo barked at him.

Castiel looked at the dog for a few seconds and then he viciously dug the heels of his palms into his eyes with a groan.

"I'm taking sexual relationship advice from a god damn mutt..." He winced and the mutt in question sat up and barked again as if he was offended by the degrading term.

Castiel locked eyes with the dark brown globes directed his way.

"Alright…" he bent down, holding the dog's gaze. "Do you think I should call your obnoxious owner and tell him to hook me up with some random stranger, get laid so that I then can go back to my ordinary life?"

Bingo looked back at him, tilted his head and whimpered silently.

"Or…" he continued, the dog's ears perking intently. "Should I pack my bag, get in the car and drive all the way to work in order to get inside an empty shower simply for the prospects of eventually meeting with a guy that probably hates my guts at the moment?"

Bark, bark, frantic tail wigging.

Castiel glared at the canine.

"Obnoxious brother, bar, random fuck." He listed.

Nothing.

"Perverted stranger, company shower, weird shower sex."

Bark.

"No." he stood up straight, resolutely striding back to the sofa. "No way in hell."

Head tilt.

"No, I'm not doing it."

Bark, bark.

"No!" Castiel emphasized. "It's a stupid idea, I'm not going."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

This was a stupid idea!

It had been almost an hour, and the shower room was still as empty as when he had arrived, the lights in the locker room outside already gone dark when the automatic lights had shut off.

His skin was beginning to furl over his fingertips and he was convinced that he had never been this clean in his entire life. He should have stayed home, spared himself the trouble, gas money and private humiliation all together. It was ridiculous, what was he even _doing_ here? It had to be almost half past nine by now; there was no way anybody would be working this late on a Friday!

Just _look_ at him for Christ sake, he was acting like a girl!

This was such a stupid idea…

Castiel sighed.

He still couldn't believe he had gotten himself talked into this by a _dog_!

He might as well go back home. Gabriel would surely be happy for the chance to fix him up with the nearest serial rapist in town, but even that would be less humiliating than staying-…

The door opened with a loud squeak from the hinges and Castiel almost jumped out of his skin. He had been waiting for that sound ever since he took place in this stupid stall, but when it finally came it scared the shit out of him.

Someone entered and then came to an abrupt halt and Castiel knew that the stranger was looking at his towel hanging by the wall.

_He'll turn and walk away. Any second now he'll walk away._

Footsteps echoed through the room, slower this time, but to Castiel's relief (_panic, panic!_) they were not moving away. Instead they came towards him, wary and deliberately quiet. Water was turned on next to him and Castiel's heart would surely come crashing through his ribcage any second now he had no doubt.

Silence settled like a storm cloud in the space between the two stalls, thick and heavy with tension strung tight enough to crack a skull in half. Castiel barely dared to move and there were fine, fine trembles rippling through his body and his teeth were clattering softly like he was freezing despite the fact that he felt a hundred degrees warm. He heard water splattered and watched steam build, but apart from that there were no signs of activity coming from the other stall.

What if it wasn't him? Could there possibly be two different people working this late? It struck him that in contrary to the stranger, Castiel hadn't even thought about checking what the other's towel looked like. Driven by sudden curiosity he crept up to the edge of the stall and snuck a quick peek at the hangers by the door.

Flaming orange. And the bastard had the nerve to criticize the look of Castiel's towel?

Without thinking he snorted out loudly and the sound of movements stilled from the other side of the tiles.

"Dude, I haven't _done_ anything."

Castiel's breath hitched, because yeah, that was the voice. The voice that had haunted his dreams for almost a month now. And it sounded _pissed_.

"I wasn't…!" he cut himself off when hearing the harsh tone coming out of his mouth. What was the matter with him?! He'd been standing here waiting for this guy for an hour and all it took was for the bastard to open his mouth to make Castiel want to snap at him all over again.

"I was just looking at your towel." He said, willing his voice down to a calmer register. "I like the color." He added, holding out the words like a piece offering.

"What, it offends you to now?"

The hesitant smile that had begun to grown on his lips got wiped off quicker than it had arrived and he winced inwardly. This was so not going the way he had hoped for.

"Yeah… about that…"

His stomach knotted tightly as the anxiety slowly began working its way into his head, but he shoved it aside, telling himself to man up and that the worst thing that could happen would be him going home in the same state as he had arrived. It didn't sound as encouraging as he would have liked it to…

He took a deep breath, watching the water pour down around his feet.

Here goes nothing.

"I wanted to apologize for the things I said to you." He mumbled, furious at himself for not having the guts to speak up louder. "I was overreacting and… you got caught in the middle of it. I'm sorry."

There was a condescending snort.

"You think it'd be that easy? Just to say you're sorry and everything will be fine?."

"No." Castiel answered truthfully. "It was more hope than belief I think..."

"You called me a pervert." The other pointed out.

"I know, and that was-…"

"If I'm a pervert, then what the hell does that make you, huh?" The voice interrupted; the tone suddenly cold and dangerous. "As if the things you were doing were somehow less twisted!"

"I _know_," Castiel groaned. "but I… damn it, I just... I wasn't expecting _that_! You caught me by surprise, okay?"

There was no answer.

"I'm sorry I went out of line and I swear I've been beating myself up about it ever since." The words were coming out faster as he spoke, wanting to get it all over with so that he could be rejected and go home already. "And I understand that you probably want nothing more to do with me," he added hurriedly "but I figured that… perhaps you'd… If we both agree to be adults about this maybe we could still… I don't know… talk?"

He mentally bitch slapped himself.

What the hell was _that_?! That was not the speech he had prepared inside his head – that was rubbish! 'Talk'?! Way to go with that one, really, how the fuck was he suppose to do this if he couldn't even come up with a better synonym to what he wanted them to do than _'talk'_?!

Holding his breath he waited, but there was no response, just the noise of running water. This was so stupid, why did he have to go and make such a fool of himself? He could have stayed home, he could have gone out, but no, he had to come here, put his pride at stake and just lay it all out there like a freaking-…

"Talk?" the voice said, as if tasting the word, ripping Castiel out of his mental downfall. The tone was a mix between intrigued, offended and amused, all at the same time, but he couldn't read out which one had the upper hand. Damnit, this was hard when there were no facial expressions to go with it.

"Yes." He swallowed hard. "I mean… if you want to?"

_Please, please, please, please…_

"You want to _talk_?" the other asked.

"Yes."

"With _me_?" he emphasized and Castiel wanted to roll his eyes to the ceiling. How thick could you be?

"_Yes_."

Castiel could have counted the heartbeats ringing through his head in the silence that followed.

"Alright..." came the answer after what felt like ages. "I guess there's no harm in just talking…"

Castiel's chest finally released the stranglehold of his lungs. He heard the other move and then the click of a bottle cap was heard. Castiel was sure he had never heard such a suggestive sound in his life.

"So… this talk…" the stranger said slowly, the water sloshing as he rubbed what Castiel assumed to be soap over himself. "Got any specific subject you want to discuss?"

Castiel had to hold back another snort, because of course there was, but how did one bring that up during casual conversation?

"I don't know." He leaned heavy against the tiles, back facing the stranger's stall and water pouring down over the front of his body. "I guess I just enjoy hearing your voice…" he managed.

"Is that so?"

Castiel scowled. Was that a smile he heard or was it something else?

"You have a… way with words that fascinate me." He confessed and this time there was a definite snicker from the other side.

"Wow, and here I was thinking you disliked me."

"I do." Castiel said before he could stop himself.

"But you don't have to like me to fuck me, is that it?"

"That's a harsh way to put it." Castiel muttered, not sure if the other was mocking or humoring him.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I like a good time just like the next guy." The stranger said in defense. "I just want to know if I'm going to get sued for sexual harassment if you loose your temper again? You gave me quite an earful last time." He scolded.

"No lawyers." Castiel promised, his lip curling into a smile. "And no screaming." He added and it pleased him to hear that low snicker again.

"I'd say that depends on the screaming."

The slyness in that voice made a shiver go up his spine. There was a sigh from the stranger and a light thud notifying him that the other was now leaning against the wall separating them as well and the thought of having the other unknowingly mimicking his posture sent heat flaring in his gut.

"You're a determined guy, I can tell." The other said out of nowhere. "The kind that sees something he wants and then just goes for it."

"I don't know about that…" Castiel frowned. If there was a description of him that would never be accurate, that one would be it.

"You're here aren't you?"

Castiel opened his mouth, but without waiting for an answer the stranger continued; "It's in your voice you know. That low rumble you get when you're pissed off… Shit, there's authority in there. Real heavy stuff."

He sighed again, almost dreamingly. "I'd love to know what that voice of yours sounds like when you rub one off…" Castiel's right hand instantly shot up to grip tightly around the right side of his neck, mouth falling open and skin goose bumping all over his body. The shocked silence gave the stranger time to continue, voice dropped low and drowsy.

"I wonder if you're the quiet type… or if those noises you made that time really were an attempt to hold it all in…"

Castiel swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

"I-I suppose…"

"Hm?"

"I suppose… I could arrange that. If you'd like…?"

There was a brief silence and then he heard that laugh again, but darker this time. His mind immediately went to the thought of a predator; a big jungle cat slowly circling it's pray with a feral, calculating glimmer in its eyes and the fingers against his skin gripped harder, almost bruising him.

"Mhm… That would only be fair." The other agreed. "You've heard me twice already and the only thing I've gotten out of you is a stifled moan and a bag of insults. I'd say you owe me…"

"Sounds about right…" Castiel actually nodded, even though he knew damn well that the other could not see him.

Shit, this was really happening. They were actually doing this.

"So… Go ahead…" the man drawled. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me what turns you on… The things you like..."

"You want _me_ to talk?" Castiel threw a horrified look at the tiles over his shoulder.

"Or better yet…" the stranger suddenly changed his mind, voice lowering to a purr. "How about you tell me what you think about when you touch yourself?"

A furious blush spread over Castiel's cheeks at the words, his heart fluttering nervously inside his chest. This guy actually wanted him to do the talking this time? _Him_, the awkward guy who'd rather bite his own tongue off than say something even remotely related to the word 'fuck' to anyone but his own brother? The thought was… unnerving, almost frightening. It wasn't that he had any problems _thinking_ about sex; he had a very vivid imagination, believe it or not, but to say those things that went through his head out loud…?

"I'm not sure if I know how to do that." He tried. "I'm not very… charismatic…"

"You'll get the hang of it soon enough." The stranger assured him. "Just take it from the top, like, where are you? What are you wearing? Tell me where you're hands are on your body…"

Castiel's hands were visibly trembling now and his heart was beating a furious staccato against his ribcage. There was a little voice inside his head, the part of him that was still trying to convince him to be good boy, to never do anything indecent or out of line, to be _normal_, but after a brief moment of guilt and hesitation he shoved it away. Right now, right here, at this precise moment he really, really, _really_ didn't want to be a good boy…

He swallowed hard and thought back to the evening before, a night just like any other he'd spent on Gabriel's sofa. The way things had started; what he had done first.

"Well… I suppose I'm lying on the couch." He said hesitantly. "I'm wearing boxers and a t-shirt…"

"The dark ones?" the voice interrupted, a little smile playing in there somewhere.

"Yes, I… Uh…" Castiel momentarily lost the thread and he willed his eyes shut in order to catch it again. "I'm… my left hand is on my chest and the other is resting on my hip."

The stranger made an appreciative sound and Castiel cleared his throat, mouth remarkably dry.

"Is that good?" He asked nervously and that low hum was heard again.

"Mm, it's a start. What are you doing? Tell me what you're thinking about…"

He rubbed his hand over the tendons in his neck with little, slow circles in a valiant attempt to make himself relax.

"I'm… I'm thinking about you." He admitted. "About the things you said about me when you were… " he cut himself off, taking a deep breath. Heat was pulsing through him, his erection already standing tall and proud. Jesus, it was insane how much this was affecting him. He'd always thought talking during sex was a stupid and embarrassing thing to do, he had never understood why so many seemed to think it was necessary, but this was different. Doing this with _him _was different…

"What am I saying?" the other sounded a little breathless as he spoke and Castiel shuddered anew. "Touch yourself and tell me what I'm saying I'd do to you."

"You're saying…" his breath hitched when he obediently gripped around his dick and his tongue came out to moisture his lips. "Y-you're saying that you'd like to suck me off. That you'd like to… replace my hand with your mouth…"

"Yeah, that sounds like fun..." the voice agreed. "Do you imagine that when you touch yourself? That it's my tongue that gets you off instead of your hand?"

"Yes…" His hand was moving on its own between his legs now, pumping slowly and he didn't even have to twist his wrist in order to achieve that jolting sensation that made him go week in the knees. Water was running hot over his body and it was so easy to imagine that the trickling streams were fingers and that the heat around his cock was a mouth, the stroke of his thumb a tongue and that the soft pressure was in fact lips moving up and down over his length. The stranger let out a groan, as if he could see the images in Castiel's head and liked them.

"How does it feel?" he urged "C'mon tell me, I want to hear it..."

"It f-feels.. ngh… wet. Slippery and warm."

"Yeah... I'm sucking you real good, aren't I?" He sounded pleased, voice lowered to a seductive whisper. "You like having my lips all over your dick?" he breathed and Castiel nodded again.

"Yes… yes it's… it feels good…"

"Fuck…"

More noises drifted to Castiel's ear, slickened sounds of a second fist pumping and oh, that just made it so much better, so much more intense, hearing that.

"Keep talking." The other pleaded. "Christ, your voice is fucking amazing…" A hoarse groan made Castiel's entire body twitch "Tell me more, I want to hear you…"

Castiel moaned; he couldn't stop himself. There was just so much power in this, knowing that what he said had such an effect on the other male, that just the sound of his voice had the ability to disarm him so completely that he was begging him for more.

"I-I…. I'm having my hands in your hair." He stuttered, growing bolder and moving his other hand up through his own wet strands of dark brown, seeing the vision of them fisting amongst the unruly wisps he imagined moving between his thighs. "I'm tugging at it… moving with you while you… oh…"

"Mm, you're doing great." The other panted. "Tell me more… tell me how you pull my hair. You like that don't you? Tell me what you'd do if I was in there right now with your cock in my mouth. Would you pull it then to?"

"Yes…" Castiel gulped "I'd pull it… make you go faster…"

"What else? What else would you do to me?"

"I would… I would…" the pulse was ringing in his ears, distracting, and his mouth was running on autopilot, he had no control over the words coming out of it anymore. Everything was just heat and pleasure and an overwhelming sense of being lifted out of his own mind.

"C'mon, just say it. You know I want to hear it… Say it, tell me…"

"I would… hold you down… fuck your mouth so hard…."

The noise that erupted from the other side of the wall sounded like the growl from a wounded animal.

"Sweet Jesus…!"

"Did I say something wrong?" Castiel's hand stilled for a moment as he snapped back into himself, terrified that he had gone over the top and somehow managed to ruin the mood.

"No! Fuck no, I liked it… always knew you were a kinky bastard…" Castiel relaxed when he heard the grin in the other's voice. "Just keep going… Fuck I need to hear you come so fucking bad right now… Sucking your dick, getting it all wet for you…"

Castiel moaned again, his hand picking up speed, fisting himself fast and rough as the stranger's panted breaths grew ragged and greedy.

"Ah shit, do that again. Moan for me baby, c'mon…"

How could he possibly deny such a request? For the first time in months he was able to let go, no need for muffled moans or panting breaths in fear of detection, he was here, finally and it was like a dam breaking. He tossed his head back and the noises he made must have contained that rumble the other had spoken about earlier because there was an immediate response from the other stall in the shape of another groan.

"Fuck yes…! Just like that. Keep going, come for me… Gonna swallow you down, let you shoot down my throat… So h-hungry for you, c'mon…"

Castiel's entire body was shaking and trebling, his head turning from side to side and he bit down on his lower lip, stifling a whimper. He was burning up; the fire in his body slowly killing him, burning him to ashes while sparks ignited behind his closed eyelids. Every flare of need was a thousand times stronger and brighter than anything he had ever experienced and he needed, needed so badly…

He heard the wet slap of skin on skin coming from behind him, and even the slightest breath from the other had every hair on his entire body rising in wild attention. He was so wrapped up in the noises coming from the other man that he barely noticed that he had gone quiet himself, too busy listening. His partner however, had not and he suddenly let out a noise mixed between a growl and a whimper that made Castiel's stomach clench.

"Shit, man, don't hold out on me…!"

Castiel's head rolled in what could have been a spasm or a nod, mouth falling open once more as his lungs gulped down air and punched out noises he hadn't known he'd be capable of. His head was spinning, the muscles in his abs twitching and this was it, he could feel the euphoria beginning to pool hot and heavy in his gut, licking sinfully good swipes of fire up his spine.

"I'm not-…" he began, but this time there were no teeth to hold back the whimper that fled his mouth.

"I-I'm not going to last… I'm gonna-…"

"Yeah, you just give it to me..." the other groaned, breathless, _eager_. "I'll swallow it all for you… lick you clean and-…ah shit… Oh, you better be fucking coming right now, I can't-… Oh god, say something, say something, I need-!"

But Castiel had no words. His head slammed hard against the tiles and he screamed out his climax to the ceiling with a cry that must have originated from the most primal corner of his body, his voice breaking into a hoarse whine when his air ran out. He heard the other breathe out something that sounded like 'oh fuck' before a throaty groan echoed through the room followed by harsh panting and desperate gasps for air.

Castiel's legs gave out underneath him and he slid to the floor with an ungracious thud, eyes screwed shut and with his head both blissfully blown from his orgasm and painfully aching from where it had hit the ceramic tiles. He was shivering in the rush of water from above, muscles drawing tight in spasms from the afterglow and his breath clawing in his throat. The stickiness on his fingers was slowly settling into a thin layer over his skin and he absentmindedly rubbed the hand against the floor in an attempt to make it go away.

"Holy shit…"

The voice from the other side of the wall gently pulled him back to reality, but he kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of the other's voice through the darkness.

"Bet you weren't expecting that, huh?" Castiel rasped and the other laughed.

"It was more hope than expectation really." Castiel straightened up when hearing the alteration of his own words leave the stranger's mouth.

"Hoping?" he asked quietly.

"Sort of." Castiel could hear the shrug in his voice. "Like I said, I enjoy a good time like any other… and your voice is kind of addictive."

"You only heard me talk once." Castiel pointed out.

"Again dude; _addictive_." He silenced for a moment. "You're on the floor right now aren't you?"

"Guilty." Castiel sighed. He didn't have the energy to deny anything at this point and the other snickered.

"That must have been one hell of a rush. I think you cracked a few windows somewhere with that one."

"I seriously doubt that." Castiel huffed.

"Don't sound so disappointed, there's always next time."

Now that had Castiel's eyes snapping open so fast the whiteness of the interior around him had him momentarily blinded.

"Next time?" He asked, one part of him confused, but an even bigger part of him stirring with excitement from the insinuation those two words carried.

"Hey, if you think I'm letting those vocal chords of yours go now you're out of your god damn head. Unless you want me to of course, rape's never been my cup of tea."

"I appreciate that." Castiel said dryly.

The other laughed.

"So…" he said "this is gonna sound like the worst pickup line in history, but do you come here often?"

Castiel laughed silently.

"Not really. If it hadn't been for you I wouldn't be here at all."

"My, I'm flattered."

"You should be." Castiel snorted before he softened his voice. "What about you? Most people I know won't work this late unless they're forced."

"Well, what can I say, I need the money. I work better alone anyway so it's just as good."

"You mean you always work this late?" Castiel's brows shot up with surprise.

"Not _this_ late, jeez…." He actually sounded horrified at the thought. "But I do stay behind almost every day, for an hour or so."

"I'm impressed." He really was. "If I did that I'd collapse within a week." He added.

"Oh yeah, what kind of strenuous work do you do then?"

Castiel's stomach tightened almost painfully and the good mood he had beginning to work up fell down to zero.

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked, leaning his head back against the wall.

"What?"

"Could we… Would it be possible for us to leave things like our names and career out of this? It's nothing personal," he added, because the other man suddenly felt abnormally quiet "but I could get in a lot of trouble if the rumor got around."

"Why, you're married or something?" He sounded suspicious, but the thing that made it even worse was the hint of acceptance in his voice, like he had already struggled with the thought and that Castiel was just about to hit him with the final blow.

"No!" he objected, horrified. "God, no…" Castiel hesitated, knowing that what he was about to ask would break the very rule he had suggested just seconds ago, but it was only fair that he got to know. "You?" he asked eventually.

"Free as a bird."

"Good, that's… good."

Castiel bit his lip, worrying the skin there with his teeth. There was something else he wanted to know as well. He wouldn't be able to go home without knowing…

"So have you ever… like does anyone else ever work as late as you do?" he asked, trying to find a way to approach the question without making it sound like an accusation.

"It happens."

"Do they shower to?"

"Getting jealous already?" the other smirked, but when Castiel didn't answer he continued; "If the real question is if I've ever done this here with anyone else then no, you're the first. I don't usually jerk off in front of an audience."

"You don't seem to mind, though." Castiel said pointedly.

"Honestly?" the stranger chuckled. "At first I did that just to screw with you. I thought you'd bolt straight away once you figured out what I was doing, but… you never did. And then I heard you make those sounds and what can I say… I got hooked on the thought of me turning you on. Too bad you freaked out the second time around. Must say I wasn't expecting that."

Castiel had probably never felt so sheepish or giddy in his entire life. The stranger had gotten hooked? On _his_ voice? That must have been both the strangest and best compliment he had been granted during his entire life.

"Oh…" he said, trying to make it sound apologetic, but didn't quite succeed all the way. The other must have heard him, because there was a huffed laugh heard from the other side.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

The water was still running in both of their showers, but from what Castiel could tell, none of them had moved from their respective spots in several minutes, as if neither of them wished to leave quite yet, or knew how to.

"I was thinking…" the voice said suddenly. "Since I can't know your name, what should I call you?"

Castiel scowled.

"I really haven't thought that far." He admitted.

"You got no nicknames? A favourite movie? A song? Something about you that stands out?"

"Well… People always tell me that I have very special eyes." It was a stupid example, but at the moment his brain didn't seem to be willing to cooperate with him just yet to think of something better.

"Special can mean a lot of things, man." The other didn't sound too enthusiastic about the description and Castiel could imagine the visions that must go through the other's head; that he'd be skew-eyed or walleyed or… worse.

"They tell me they're blue." He clarified. "Like… _really_ blue."

"Blue Eyes, huh?" There was a short silence, as if he was thinking it over. "I can work with that."

"It's not a very good nickname though…" Castiel apologized. "I've never had any nicknames that weren't based on my name, but I could think of something better if you'd like."

"Nah, Blue Eyes is good. I like it. Though it's going to be hard to fit it in with all the dirty talk." He added, grinning widely from the sound of it.

"You don't have to say it while we… when we do that." Castiel offered, voice lowering as he spoke.

"You're such a prude you know that?" the other laughed.

"What do you mean?" He frowned.

"C'mon, just put it out there; _'when we jerk each other off inside our heads'_, say it."

Castiel's face went from normal to beet read in 0.2 seconds.

"You're being stupid." He gruffed.

"'_When we get off on listening to the other fist his swollen dick.'_" The stranger recited proudly.

"Would you _stop_?"

"Are you blushing?" he asked.

"No." Castiel denied, perhaps a bit too quickly considering that both his cheeks were hot and flushing furiously.

"You so are. But don't worry, I'll find a way to loosen that innocent little tongue of yours. I'm sure it will prove to be a natural once you get it going…" If there ever was such a thing as a verbal, wiggling eyebrow, that last part there was it.

"You're a jerk." Castiel sulked.

"Thank you, I've been practicing."

"I think I'm going to call you that; 'Jerk'." he announced. "It has a nice ring to it."

"Aw, c'mon you couldn't have given me something else?" the stranger wailed. "Something that describes what a masculine stud I am?"

"You just spent fifteen minutes describing how to suck another man's dick."

"In a very _masculine_ way!" he defended himself.

Castiel sighed. He wasn't good at naming things, but he assumed that since he was the one who wanted to keep their identities a secret it was only fair that he came up with the alternatives.

"How about…" his mind drifted back to the orange towel, and he turned his head a bit to the left, just enough to have the glaring fabric skirt the edge of his vision. "Tiger?" he suggested.

"Tiger?" The other scowled. "That sounds like a cheap porno flick."

"I could always go back to Jerk if you want?" Castiel said sweetly.

"Fine, whatever. I'll be the tiger and you can be the little blue eyed, virgin angel."

"Just because I don't like talking about what I do in bed doesn't mean I don't know how it's done." Castiel pointed out, feeling slightly offended. So maybe he hadn't dated in a while, but that didn't automatically render him a virgin.

"Watch it, or I might have you prove that someday." The warning came with the same suggestive tone that had flowed throughout the whole conversation.

"You'd wish." Castiel snorted, and to that they both fell silent once more.

Castiel's ass was beginning to ache, the floor wasn't exactly a comfortable place to be at and he stood up with a loud protest from his back as the vertebras where pulled into place.

"So…" the voice on the other side hesitated. "I suppose this means I won't get to see what you look like anytime soon, huh?" He almost sounded disappointed, as if the meaning of their earlier agreement had just become clear to him.

"I guess not… sorry."

"Don't worry." The disappointment was gone from his voice so quickly Castiel became doubtful to the fact that it was ever there. "Besides, not knowing is kind of exciting."

"Yeah… I guess it is."

There was a clinking sound from the other side when the stranger's shower was turned off and Castiel felt panic rise, because they still hadn't said anything about when the previously mentioned 'next time' would occur.

"Hey, wait."

The movements stilled on the other side of the tiles.

"When… when are we doing this again?" He did not want it to sound like a line from a poorly written drama play, but his voice didn't obey him.

"You want to make an _appointment_?" The other said, sounding both surprised and a bit put off at the same time. Castiel didn't blame him, it did sound rather desperate.

"It's just that I can't stay behind this late every day." he explained. "And I have other stuff I need to do. If we're going to continue this then I must know when it's going to happen."

The stranger pondered this for a moment.

"I _was_ having plans on staying late next Friday as well… To about eight." he said eventually.

"Is that a routine of yours?" Castiel asked.

"It could become one."

"Oh…" Castiel's stomach made a little twirl. "I think I'd like that."

"I figured as much."

There were light footsteps heard walking across the floor, followed by the low rustle of a towel.

"So, I guess I'll see you Friday then." The other said and then added with a smirk. "Or something like that…"

Castiel smiled, the use of the word 'see' in this case obviously not being a very accurate description.

"Yeah…" the corner of his mouth slowly curled into a smile. "See you Friday..."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_So here's the deal; _

_I love reviews, the longer the better. If you like my story, then please feel free to let me know. =D_

_If there's something in particular that you'd like me to evolve further; oppinions on how I portray the characters, my grammar, choice of words, or if there's something that you simply think is rubish, then let me know that to. I aspire to make this a good story for all of you so suggestions are highly welcomed. =)_


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday dawned with a sky crowned in crimson red. The warm rays trickled through the blinds and down onto the bundle of sheets on Gabriel's sofa, shining on a ruffle of dark wisps that peeked out between the covers. A sleepy groan was emitted as the pile of fabric twisted and revealed a very rumpled Castiel, blinking like an owl against the blinding light falling on his face.

At first he tried to block the offending brightness out with a cushion, but the damn thing kept falling over and eventually he was forced to surrender and turn around, his back facing the source of his annoyance. He barely had the time to fall back into a light slumber when the front door suddenly burst open and Gabriel came swaggering in, one paper bag from the bagel shop down the street in one hand and two cups of something steamy and smelling suspiciously much like freshly brewed coffee balancing in the other.

"Honey, I'm home!"

Castiel answered by grumbling something incoherent into his other pillow, rolling over once more – at the moment more compelled to face the glowering sun outside than his beaming brother who was currently kicking the door closed with a bang, complete with an elegant spin of his ankle.

"Rise and shine, sleepy-cakes!"

Castiel groaned into his pillow.

"There's no such thing as a sleepy cake, Gabriel…"

"Of course there is; how else would I be able to call you one?" His face broke up in a grin "Why, you don't like it?"

"Not particularly…"

Gabriel didn't seem to mind his brother's unenthusiastic tone though and instead proceeded with clearing the coffee table with his foot, sending both Castiel's book and a few other scattered items plummeting to the floor before he dropped the bag and the two cups of beverage on the surface and flopped himself down onto the couch, managing to crush both of Castiel's feet and legs underneath him in the process.

"Hey, scoot, will ya?"

Castiel pulled his legs out from underneath the other male, giving him a shallow kick to the hip before dragging himself up into a sitting position, scratching his shoulder through his light grey t-shirt.

"I hate you." He muttered and Gabriel tsk'd at him.

"Now, is that really a proper way to greet someone who comes bearing the gift of breakfast?"

He dug open the brown paper bag and pulled out a bagel wrapped in a napkin marked with an 'X'.

"Tuna, avocados, tomatoes and brie. Extra pepper, no onion."

He handed Castiel the food who took it while rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

"Thanks." He rasped, reaching for the matching cup marked with another 'X' which he knew contained black coffee. The other was Gabriel's and was probably filled with something more related to a coffee-milkshake than anything else considering how much cream and sugar his brother put in it. How Gabriel ever managed to stay fit throughout his high carb-diet he'd never know.

"That's more like it." Gabriel commended and bit down over his own bagel – Turkey Chili Cheese Salsa today judging by the looks of it, and hummed contently.

"I don't care how popular those other franchises are, _nothing_ beats Chuck's Bagels." He stated, licking off some salsa that threatened to spill over the edge of the bread in his hand.

"They are very good." Castiel agreed quietly.

Gabriel let out a smacking sound that Castiel's head automatically translated into "damn right!"

Bingo came pawing across the linoleum floor, claws pattering against the surface and sat down next to the couch, watching them both intently with bright, pleading eyes. Gabriel swallowed down his mouthful of turkey and waved a reprimanding finger at him.

"Nu-uh buddy, treats are in the kitchen, you know that."

Bingo wagged his tail a few times, but when Gabriel didn't falter he turned and went back to his bed, throwing himself down upon it with a sigh.

"It's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?" Castiel pointed. "After all, you snack wherever and whenever you feel like it."

"Yeah, but I pay for the stuff I snack." Gabe gruffed and Castiel smiled. In fact he knew very well the reason to how the paragraph of 'dog vs snacks' had become the number one rule in the household and that reason was best described with the phrase; 'like owner, like pet'. Gabriel loved snacks and sweets and candy and pastries and everything that could contribute to the task of clogging up his arteries and it just so happened that he had managed to acquire a dog with the same unhealthy preferences. Before, Bingo had been allowed his treats anywhere in the house - a slice of pizza here, a piece of muffin there… however, when the little terrier began stealing food straight off the coffee table things changed dramatically. Castiel knew from experience that Gabriel was very possessive about the things he ate, especially if they involved chocolate and he had to say; Bingo might be small, but the courage he inhabited surely made up for whatever he lacked in size. So now there rules where simple – dogs ate in the kitchen and nowhere else, period.

"I promise, the moment he gets a job and starts earning his own money, I'll be happy to let him snack wherever he wants." Gabriel mouthed around his breakfast and Castiel snorted.

"Hardly a fair argument, don't you think?"

"What? That's the speech I got as a kid, this is no different."

"Except he's a _dog_." Castiel pointed out.

"That doesn't change a thing." Gabriel looked at the dog. "You hear that? Think of Lassie. Rin-Tin-Tin. Hell, think of Pluto. You could be great if only you put some effort into it!"

In response Bingo decided to yawn his owner right in the face.

"See what I mean;" Gabriel pointed his thumb to the canine. "No ambition whatsoever."

Castiel just shook his head, returning his concentration to the food at hand. Gabriel's eyes were on him, gleaming with mischief which was a tell-tale sign that he was in a good mood. The glee was almost like a physical aura around him.

"I take it from your mood that last night was a success?" Castiel asked and his brother's eyebrow crooked suggestively.

"I returned with breakfast, did I not?"

"You did."

"Then success it is."

"I thought the breakfast part was usually offered to whomever you had spent the night _with_?" Castiel smiled and Gabriel settled back with an indignant frown.

"There's nothing wrong with having breakfast twice." He huffed and Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Only Hobbits have more than one breakfast."

"I could be half-part Hobbit." Gabriel defended.

"No you could not." Castiel retorted firmly. "Hobbits separate their meals from one another; with you there's just a constant continuum of _chewing_."

For once Gabriel didn't seem to have a good comeback to that one, instead he took another large bite of his bagel, strings of cheese spanning over and dangling in between the distance of his mouth and his food in a defiant pout.

"So, what did you get up to while I was out?" He asked once he had managed to suckle all the threads of cheese into his mouth with what Castiel considered to be an unhealthy amount of tongue whirling. "Watched boring TV? Read a boring book? Had _boring_ tea with the _boring_ old lady next door while being _bored_?" The condescending tone was a typical defense mechanism from Gabriel – if you couldn't come up with a good sarcastic comment to throw back in your conversation partner's face; find something else to harass them about until you did. It was all very juvenile and predictable, but Castiel was used to it by now.

"I was not bored." He stated calmly. A quick flash of heat went through him at the memory of splattering water and husky voices, but he shoved it away. "I found a solution to a problem that's been distracting me at work." He continued, nonchalantly sipping at his coffee, knowing that it would tick his brother off. "In fact; not going out with you turned out to be a very good decision."

"Well, I'm happy for you. Let me know when you propose to your office so I can start working on my best man speech." Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"What makes you think that _you'll_ be best man?" Castiel countered and Gabriel snorted.

"Because face it; it's either me or Chuck down the street and Chuck will be busy catering."

"I'm not having bagels on my wedding, Gabe." Castiel grimaced at the thought.

"Why not?!" his brother objected loudly. "They're just as good as any fancy dinner, plus it's cheaper. It could be the midnight snack, c'mon!"

Castiel put his cup down and gave Gabriel a regarding look.

"Remind me again why you're suddenly planning my wedding?"

"_Because_ you're a hopeless workaholic and if I don't do it, no one will."

Castiel let out a silent laugh, something Gabriel must have taken as a victory because he settled back into the couch, lacing his hands behind his head while closing his eyes and smiling widely, licking his mouth.

"No." Castiel immediately deadpanned and Gabriel sat up again and threw his hands out in a defensive gesture.

"What? You don't even knew what I was thin-…!"

"There's not going to be a chocolate fountain." Castiel interrupted and Gabriel's lips narrowed down into a thin line. Those hazel eyes glared at him for a few seconds before something gleamed deep down and Gabe opened his mouth to speak.

"And no twinkies." Cas added warningly to which Gabriel's mouth instantly curled into a sly grin.

"Which kind are you talking about?" he asked sweetly. "Because I was thinking maybe to your stag party-…"

"No!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

The days dragged along with the velocity of a snail on roofies and when Friday finally arrived Castiel found himself watching the clock above his office door more than he watched the screen of his computer, dividing the day into sections, hours, quarters, minutes and then finally, finally seconds.

When he closed his laptop and turned off the lights in his office at a quarter to eight the rest of the building was already dark and quiet. He had his stuff packed in a bag by his desk so he didn't need to go out to the car to collect them, saving him time.

The walk through the long corridors made his stomach knot, both from excitement and fear of accidentally being discovered. Should 'Tiger' see him come this way at this hour, today, there would be no way for him not to understand who he was.

Luckily he didn't see anyone, and the locker rooms were empty as usual. Castiel quickly undressed and then took place in the shower stall, using the same as he had last time while his blue towel hung silently from the hanger by the wall. He was already semi-hard and the anticipation was killing him. It bothered him to no end that there were no clocks in the shower room; he had no idea if he had stood there waiting for a minute or an hour before he heard the slam of a locker door from the other room.

Minutes later there was a wince of hinges when someone stuck their head in through the door.

"Hey, Blue. You in here?"

Castiel's stomach flipped and he closed his eyes, feeling an unexpected wide smile creep across his face.

"Yes." He answered and Tiger gave a satisfied little chuckle.

"Sweet…"

Footsteps padded over the floor and the mystery man took place in the stall next to him, turning the water on.

"What time is it?" Castiel asked, more to say something than really wanting to know. Time didn't matter now, not anymore.

"Two minutes passed eight." The other's voice sank into a low purr. "Why, you've got somewhere else you need to be?"

Castiel shivered and it took all he had to keep his hands away from his groin when his suddenly full on hardness twitched in response.

"Not very likely..." he murmured and on the other side Tiger chuckled again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"… so as you can see, we have to take action _now_, before it's too late."

Zachariah's nasal voice made Castiel want to rip his own ears off. It had been almost three god damn hours and they were still not getting anywhere, simply because that babbling ass wanted his ego stroked. The light of yet another one of his endless PowerPoint presentations were currently being projected and lighting up the white wall behind him, his silhouette and beady eyes being the only thing visible in the dusk. It would have looked almost scary had Castiel not loathed the man so much...

"This corporation needs reformation!" the balding man continued, gesturing wildly like a football captain at a pep rally. "The figures are clear, something needs to be done or we'll lose millions!"

The other men around the table watched him in silence; a few nodding in agreement, others with their eyes firmly set on the tabletop in front of them while their hands absentmindedly plucked with papers and folders. The mood was tense; this was the third cut-back meeting in less than two months, and there were quite a few of the board members that were beginning to worry. If they lowered the salaries further the people on the floor would not be happy and they would end up losing more workers than they could afford – workers that they _needed_. The solution from Zachariah was that they were not to lower the pay grade this time, but actually fire people considered to be expendable instead. It was a drastic suggestion, even when coming from Zachariah, but no one dared to say anything about it. Castiel was no better, he knew that, but it didn't do much to ease his aggravation. Zachariah was an Ass, but at the moment that Ass was planted in a Big Chair and if Castiel wanted to keep his job he also had to make sure to keep his mouth shut.

"So!" The dickhead at the front rubbed his hands together, not even bothering to hide how pleased he was that no one argued with him. "We have gone over the details, so in case anyone else doesn't have anything to add, I'd like to-…"

"May I just interject something?"

Zachariah stilled, his mask of cooperate politeness faltering when a voice interrupted him in his closing speech. He turned slowly, cold eyes locking onto the board member who had dared to open his mouth.

"Yes, Matt?" He asked politely, the tone laced with the finest layer of 'shut the fuck up' a human voice could possibly muster.

Mr. Anderson, whose real first name was Matthew, straightened up in his seat. He was one of the senior executives, had a thick, robust looking beard that had begun to turn grey at the temples and a black suit. The glasses he wore would have looked feminine on anyone else, but on him they basically pulsed out authority, giving those grey eyes an extra edge. If anyone at this table had the chance to take on a fight with Zachariah, then Matthew was the man to do it. Castiel watched intently as the two sent evaluating looks at each other, sizing up the potential threat, looking for weaknesses while maintaining those polite smiles that never reached their eyes.

"I understand that there has been a shortage of profit lately." Matthew began, talking very slowly, surely because he knew it would annoy the hell out of Zachariah if he dragged out on his interruption. "But I cannot help but to think that perhaps, instead of resorting to yet another cut back, wouldn't it be better if we found out the reason to the increased shortage of resources and placed our efforts there instead?"

Castiel's eyes turned to Zachariah as the focus of the entire table suddenly fell on the balding man. He could see how the other's jaw set and how his posture suddenly went rigid. Not much, but enough for someone like Castiel who watched more than he talked would notice. It was evident that this was a conversation the suit clad man did not want to engage in. The transformation only lasted a second though, and then that gleaming row of teeth was back, smiling fondly at Matthew, like a shark grinning at a surfer.

"Of course, that would be ideal. However, launching such an immense investigation during this time would not only cost the company more money, but it would take a very long time. Even if we did find the reason to why things have gone wrong we would lose far too much money and efficiency in the process."

An appreciative mumble was heard from the others and Zachariah's smile widened. Matthew's smile however, did not.

"When standing in a sinking boat, wouldn't it be more efficient to plug the leak before you waste all your energy trying to scoop out the water?" he countered and this time the mumble around the table got louder, some in agreement, some in objection, but at least there was a discussion brewing; like a fine shift in the air.

Castiel's ears perked and he sat up a little taller. Was it possible that he had found an ally in this matter? It was highly unexpected, but none the less welcomed. If Matthew was willing to go against Zachariah's leading-string then perhaps the other board members would at least consider the same action? His hope didn't last long however, because then Zachariah opened his mouth again and that cleft tongue went from spewing reason to weaving silver threats in the air.

"Of course it would." He agreed, grinning. "But the more people in the boat, the faster it will sink. If we had more time I would gladly do what you suggest, but we don't. Unless of course_ you_ could take it upon yourself to find a few people who would willingly abandon ship for the greater good?"

Matt's lips narrowed and a furious flush spread over his cheeks.

"Or perhaps you already have someone in mind?" Zachariah asked sweetly, the point behind the words evidently clear.

The entire table held it's breath as tension sparked through the air between the two men. This was it, the big showdown; every single person in the room knew that what happened next would shift the power balance of the entire company. Castiel desperately wished he could have sent Matthew a sign, something to let him know that he was not alone in this, but Matthew never looked his way. Instead his shoulders slowly lost their defensive stance the longer he was forced to hold Zachariah's gaze and the thunderstorm that had been about to break out over the table scattered and faded into nothing.

"Not at the moment." He bit out and Zachariah frowned in mock disappointment.

"What a shame. I was hoping that maybe you had solved the problem for us." He looked out over the table and Castiel had to fight the confusing urge of glaring and cowering at the same time.

"Anyone else?"

There was not a sound heard and Zachariah shone up like a model for a dentist commercial.

"Alright then – all in favor?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"I still don't see why we have to change anything. Why can't we do it like we always do?"

Castiel was not sure if he agreed with the other man's idea; not that the suggestion scared him or anything, but he just didn't see the point.

"_Because_ it's the way we _always_ do it." Tiger whined. "C'mon it'll be fun. Who knows, you might even learn something new?"

Castiel sighed and absentmindedly dragged his hands through his hair under the spray of water.

"Alright…" he agreed. "But nothing weird."

"It's your hands." Tiger pointed out soberly. "It's not like I could force you to do something you don't want. You just touch where and how I tell you, okay?"

"Fine." Castiel was a bit put off at this whole deal. He enjoyed the way they usually did it, just listening to each other, conversing in not-really-conversations and half spoken sentences. Sure, it might have become a bit of a routine during the last few weeks, but that didn't necessary mean he thought it was boring…

"Okay, then put your hands just below your hips and spread your fingers." Tiger urged and Castiel did as he was told, though he felt rather silly doing it.

"Yes." He said out loud, confirming that he had obeyed the instruction.

"Move them up towards your shoulders, slowly. You should barely be touching yourself. Just stroke up and down."

Cas moved his hands like Tiger said and sure, it felt kind of nice, he wasn't going to deny that, but he would not like to go as far as to call it 'exciting'.

"Now what?" he asked, growing impatient. This was ridiculous, why were they doing this?

"Just keep going." Tiger soothed from behind the tiles. "Lose yourself in it."

"You sound like some half-quack yoga-instructor." Castiel snorted.

"And you like a very bad behaving student." The other retorted. "Now shut up and do as I say before I get over there and give you a spanking."

Castiel's lip quirked, but he didn't voice the sarcastic comment that wanted to fall of the tip of his tongue in response. He sighed once, breathing deeply and continued stroking his hands over his body, concentrating on the feel of it like Tiger told him to.

Water was pouring down on him, sending hot streams trickling in between his fingertips. The palm of his hands skimmed lightly over his skin, fingers dragging lazily from the edge of his hipbones, over his sides, trailing over his ribs and torso, skirting the edge of two nipples and then up to curl lightly over the edge of his shoulders before starting their journey down again.

It did feel quite good actually and when his hands came up for the fifth time or so his nipples were hard and pointy beneath the touch and the placid member between his legs was starting to catch up with the situation.

"Now drag once with your nails, hard."

His breath hitched when blunt nails dug into his skin and he both curled away and arched into the touch at the same time.

"That's it. Now do it like you did before. Just brush up and down…"

Castiel did so, feeling the blood beneath his skin rush to the angry red marks he had left behind on his body, five long stripes that stretched from just below his ribs and up across his chest, feeling the pulse thrumming through him, sensitizing him. His dick was flushing, finally picking up what was going on.

"You with me so far?" Tiger murmured and Cas was willing to bet anything that the other was touching himself too.

"Yes…" he breathed.

"Are you right handed?"

"I am."

"Take your left then and put it above your pelvis and press, just a little."

The action made him shudder, his groin tingling and making his cock twitch.

"Feels good?"

"Mhm…"

"Keep it there. Every time your right hand moves down, you press with your left just like you did now."

Castiel was not unfamiliar with the technique of pressing against that spot while he masturbated, but it was different now when he wasn't jerking off at the same time. Every slow drag of his fingers caused him to shudder and the steady pressure of his palm made his gut tingle. Sometimes Tiger would ask him to drag with his nails again and Castiel hissed when he obeyed, not being able to decide whether he liked the momentary sting of pain or the rush of blood that came afterwards better. His breath was still steady, but it had become thicker, more strained and the occasional shivers that went through his body were just shallow enough not to tear and rip it into stuttering gasps, but still threateningly close.

"Mmm, you sound like you're enjoying yourself." Tiger's voice had gotten that lazy tone again and now there was no doubt in Castiel's mind about what the other was doing; he had come to recognize those sounds well and like always when that voice hit him he felt a rush of heat shoot down his spine.

"It's… better than I thought." He admitted.

"Oh, it gets better in a minute…" Tiger drawled, but then the drowsy tone disappeared from his voice, being replaced by one far more demanding. "Put the fingers of your left hand into your mouth."

The order came so sudden it hit Castiel's dozed off brain with the crack of a whip.

"What?" his voice broke a little and the movement of his hand stilled.

"I said put your fingers in your mouth. Get them wet for me."

Castiel's skin goose bumped at the possessiveness that snuck its way into the sentence and his entire frame shook because oh, that was… that was just…

"Y-you want me to-..?"

"Yes, I do. Now _suck_."

It was not a request, it was an order and before Castiel had the chance to even reflect upon what that new voice did to him he was dragging his tongue over the digits and slickening them with saliva, releasing a breathless moan that sounded like it had been punched out of his lungs. His sudden noise made Tiger groan in response and Castiel could hear the other man begin to fist his own cock.

"Yeah… You like that?" Tiger moaned. "You're imagining that's my cock in your mouth right now, aren't you? I bet you're like a fucking pornstar when it comes to sucking dick…"

Castiel released the fingers with an audible pop, feeling a blush coming on from the other's words, but he couldn't think of anything to say in return.

"I want you to touch yourself, Blue… Touch yourself for me, I want you to rub and tease that tight little hole of yours with your fingers, but don't put them inside, not yet."

Castiel's entire body shuddered, but he did as he was told, pulling his hand back and arching in order to reach around far enough to slide the wet digits against his entrance. He started massaging the opening very tentatively, feeling the loosening of the muscles when he began to relax into the touch.

"You like it?" Tiger inquired.

"Yes…" he panted.

"You've done this before?"

Castiel's finger prodded slowly, breath catching in his lungs when the opening gave way for the digit far easier than he thought it would.

"Yes…" he gasped "but not… not recently…."

"Were you alone?"

Castiel opened his mouth, but all he managed was a low pant. He wanted to push in, to push back, but Tiger had told him to wait, he had to wait, he had to…

"Hey, you still with me here?"

Tiger's voice snapped him back and he forced his fingers to a halt, giving him time to find his voice and register the question.

"I've never…" he hesitated, feeling a juvenile sense of embarrassment form in his chest.

"You've never what?" Tiger urged.

"I've never done… _that_ with a guy." Great, now he was blushing again. "You now… not with anything more than fingers…" he clarified.

There was a moment of silence and then Tiger let out a surprised little snort.

"Well, I'll be damned…"

"What?"

"Guess you are a little virgin angel after all."

"Shut up." Castiel's ears heated up to a hundred degrees and he knew that he must look incredibly stupid where he stood, but then Tiger spoke again, clearing his head from everything even reminding him about his current humiliation.

"Get them inside. Now."

It was amazing how he could switch his voice from a taunting smirk to a demanding growl in less than a second, but Castiel didn't linger on it, too relieved to finally be able to let the digit by his entrance push harder, sinking deeper into himself. He groaned, feeling the heat clench down and tense when he moved; the water from the shower above had washed the saliva off too quickly and now he was left with a slow, stinging burn when he pushed the lone finger inside. Like he had said, this wasn't the first time he had done something like this to himself, or had someone else do it for him either for that matter, but even if he was experienced from previous encounters, pushing dry into yourself was never a good feeling and a sharp hiss escaped his lips when the first ring of muscles finally allowed him entrance.

"You okay?" Tiger sounded concerned and Castiel took a deep breath, steadying himself against the wall with his free hand.

"I'm fine, it's just… water doesn't really go that well with lubing…"

He arched again, twisting his finger and grunted when a new throb of pain shot up through his spine.

"You don't have to, you know. It was only an idea, if it doesn't feel right then-…" Castiel leaned his head against the cool tiles, determination settling in his chest from the concern in the other's voice.

"No." he said out loud. "Just... give me a second…"

Moving again he started prepping himself, sliding his finger in and out slowly, circling around before he let a second digit slide up and align itself with the first, pushing and probing gently. It had been some time, and his body didn't open up like he remembered it doing, but it worked and after a few minutes he had both index and middle finger inside, working on a third. His right hand was bracing against the wall and he was breathing harshly into the ceramic as he began thrusting in and out of himself, finding that little bundle that made stars shoot before his eyes with well-practiced movements, getting the angle as close to perfect as he possibly could in his current position, moaning when the pad of his middle finger ghosted against his prostate.

"_Fuck_…" Tiger's voice was low and throaty, almost sounding awestruck and Castiel's mouth fell open, releasing another groan that vibrated between the tiles.

"You're such a little cocktease, you know that?" Tiger grumbled and Castiel smiled weakly.

"I don't know about you… but I'm far…ngh… far beyond teasing at the moment…"

"So impatient…" It was almost a growl and the sound of it made Castiel's body twitch. "Perhaps I should just leave you to it then?" the other purred. "Walk out and let you have your way, all by your self?"

Castiel stilled, the threat slowly settling into his pleasure-clouded brain.

"You wouldn't." he dared, but he only got a low chuckle in response.

"Are you willing to risk it?"

Castiel glared into the tiles in front of him. He wasn't sure if Tiger was being serious, but just the thought of being left behind now was more than he wanted to think about. Tiger could be playing him, because the guy could be a real ass when he wanted to, but what if he wasn't? He gritted his teeth, pulling the fingers out a little bit before slumping down and silently admitting defeat.

"Not really..." he grumbled.

"Good boy." There was a moan heard from the other man and then the wet slap of skin on skin that always made Castiel's dick jump with excitement.

"So what now?" he asked, trying to shift into a more comfortable position, but without much success. "What do I do next?"

"You… are going to stay were you are. You move and moan when I tell you to… Not a second sooner… You don't touch yourself unless I say so or I… ah…or I walk out of here… "

Castiel's eyes widened.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me?"

"Nope…" there was an evident smile in there somewhere. "I… ha… I like the thought of you like this… Waiting… all submissive…"

"You're a sadistic bastard, you know that?" Castiel quipped, but Tiger just moaned again.

"As if you don't like it… Fuck, I can see you now… yeah… those blue eyes of yours all eager and desperate… "

"You'd wish…" Castiel breathed, barely managing to suppress a moan of his own before he remembered that he wasn't allowed to do that either. He wanted to move his fingers again, but he knew Tiger would figure him out if he did; he still hadn't found a way to keep his volume down and the bare walls in here would only resonate the sounds he made and make them even louder. He'd be caught the moment he as much as gasped. On the other side Tiger was still pleasuring himself, seemingly lost in his own imagination of whatever version of Castiel he was seeing.

"Mm, yes…" he groaned. "Oh, baby the things you're doing in my head right now… "

Castiel didn't ask him for details, knowing he wouldn't have to. Tiger kept mumbling through the stream of water, filthy words that wrecked havoc through Castiel's mind, hoarse moans and ragged breaths making way for the flood of fire that tore through his body and made his head sear.

"Wouldn't you like to get on your knees for me, little angel? Wouldn't you like to take me in your mouth, suck my cock until your lips are all red and swollen?"

Castiel clenched his teeth, turning the groan that threatened to escape into a soft hiss instead. His left arm was trembling now, both from the position he was in and from the will it took to stay there. He wasn't going to beg for it, he _wasn't_, but damn Tiger had him by the neck on this one. A single sound from him could end this whole thing and even though it was new and maybe just a bit weird, he was ready to admit that he didn't want it to.

"Or maybe you want something else?" The sound of the other's fist slowed into nothing and Castiel's attention was pulled back to reality once more.

"Perhaps you would like to get on your knees for me… and let me fuck you inside that stall of yours…"

Oh sweet Jesus that was almost too much…

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, angel? Your hands slipping and sliding on that wet floor while I fuck you from behind? Nothing to grab on to, just the feeling of my hands on your hips, pulling you back on top of me, again and again… "

"Tiger, for fuck sakes…" it wasn't begging, it wasn't, not really.

"You'd feel so good on my cock… all tight and warm… slick and wet. I'd fuck you so hard, angel… fuck you until you passed out… hard and rough until you screamed my name in that sexy voice of yours…"

Castiel wiggled his finger, he couldn't help it and he had to bite his own fist in order not to be heard.

"You wanna touch yourself? I can tell you want to… Does it excite you, the thought of my cock up your ass? Answer me, Blue… Does it turn you on?"

Castiel nodded, that lone finger reaching into him momentarily stealing his voice away. How could you not be in control of something attached to your own damn body? He gulped down a breath, trying to regain some of the composure he had lost during the other's ramblings.

"If I say yes…" he bit back a groan, willing himself to relax. "If I say yes, then what's in it for me?"

"Are you bargaining with me, angel?" Tiger almost sounded amused.

"Yes I am. And stop calling me that."

"But I like calling you that… it makes it all so much filthier doesn't it? The idea of an angel doing the things you're doing right now… completely at my mercy and I'm not even touching you…"

"Don't get too full of yourself." Castiel snorted, trying to sound cocky. "I can do whatever I want."

"Of course you can, but you _wont_ and isn't that the whole point?"

Castiel bit down on his lower lips, stifling a whimper because he was loosing it, slowly slipping in control, the temptation getting too strong.

"You do what I want, not because I tell you to, but because you _want_ to."

The pumping was back and Tiger groaned, as if the words were a realization intensifying the pleasure.

"Just admit it; you like being told what to do. To let someone else take control for once… A suit like you? Fuck… I want to take that blue tie of yours out there and wrap it around your wrists… keep your hands on your back while I push into you… do whatever I want with you… I think you'd like that, angel. I'd think you'd come for me in seconds…"

Castiel was aching all over and the words that crept underneath his skin were getting hotter and dirtier by the minute. Sure, he had never gotten turned on by dirty talk or power play before, but the thought of Tiger controlling him with nothing but his voice like this stirred a masochistic side of himself that he had not even been aware of that he had. God, he would never be able to look at his tie the same way again… Thinking about the things he wanted to do with that damn piece of silk now; the things he wanted done _to_ him!

"Tell me you want that, angel. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Say it out loud for me."

"I-I…" he had to swallow, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. "I do."

"You do _what_?"

"I want you to… fuck me." His ears glowed red as the obscene word left his mouth. "I-I want you to touch me…"

"You'd let me tie you up?" the other demanded. "Let me have my way with you?"

"Yes…!" Cas groaned, breathless, he couldn't stop it. "I would, just… please, Tiger, let me…"

"You wanna finger yourself, baby? Is that what you're asking me?"

"_Yes_!"

"Then do it… Move your fingers, Blue, make those pretty noises for me."

Not wasting another second, Castiel thrust the digits in, arching his back and moaning loudly into the crook of the arm leaning against the wall when he hit home, finally, finally.

"Yeah, that's it." Tiger hummed. "Do that again, baby…"

He did, again and again and again, every delicious jab sending new shockwaves of pleasure through his system, short-circuiting his brain and bringing his euphoric moans to the brink of screaming, eyes screwed shut and knees trembling.

It felt so good, so insanely good… and the images in his head… strong hands gripping him, wet, blue fabric wrung tight around his wrists, hot breath on his neck… Oh he wouldn't last, not like this and god he wasn't even touching himself, the sounds of Tiger gasping and moaning next to him only adding to the tidal wave.

"Tell me what you want, Blue… Tell me about how you fuck yourself on your fingers, thinking of me…"

"I-I can't…" he choked. "It's too much…"

"Then stop what you're doing and tell me anyway."

Castiel wailed, because '_stop_'; how was he supposed to do that now?! He gulped down air, feeling the fire burst and flare within him, his balls drawing tighter…

"It feels so good…" he managed, half moaning, half crying out. "Your dick inside me… oh god…"

"Yeah, you like that, don't you? Fingers shoved inside so far, wishing it was me instead…"

"Yes… Yes, you… oh fuck, just you, only you… shit… oh shit, Tiger I'm-…!"

"Stop."

"No… please, I can't…!"

"I said _stop_! Or I come in there and make you."

Castiel's right hand shot down and gripped the base of his erection hard enough to cause pain and he felt the orgasm that had been just on the verge of spilling over the edge boil back down under the surface, but still threateningly close and the teasing sensation of it made his head reel. He slumped down to his knees, left hand still inside and his right pinching around his cock, forehead leaning against the wall just to anchor him to reality, to hold on to something.

"You don't come until I tell you to, you understand?" The stranger ordered and Cas let out a silent whimper.

"Tiger, please…"

"You're so eager aren't you? Begging me for it like this, like a good little slut…"

The insult should offend him, he knew that and in any normal situation it would have, but not now. Instead the word made his stomach knot and he had to squeeze even harder to keep himself together. That low growl did things to him that shouldn't be physically possible, but he couldn't help himself.

"Tell me how much you want it. Beg me as you fuck yourself. Do it."

He leaned back while sitting on his knees, tilting his hips and pushing himself up and down, his right hand releasing its iron grip around the base of his cock and flailing up until they latched on to the shower blender for support, giving him more leverage to thrust down on his own hand. Water washed down on him from above, splattering over his face, hitting his cheeks and his closed eyelids, trickling into his mouth when it fell open in a breathless cry.

"Tiger…" he moaned, the made up name feeling more right on his tongue the more he used it. "Please… oh please…"

"Louder, Blue. Tell me what you want."

Castiel knew what he wanted; the idea the other had put in his head now, the one he knew he wouldn't be able to rid himself of ever again, the feeling of being taken, owned, _dominated_ and he gasped and quivered, his imagination taking over and providing him with the most delicious images ever and he moaned.

"I want you… to f-fuck me…" he wailed, the words making it all so real, so intense. "Oh Tiger, please, fuck me… I need you… want so badly…"

"Oh, I'll fuck you, little angel…" Tiger assured him, the sloshing of water getting louder. "Can't you feel it; my dick inside you, thrusting into you?"

"Yes… s-so good…!" His body shook, the rhythm faltering as the muscles in his legs and stomach twitched and jumped. He was so close, so maddeningly close and he simply didn't care if he begged or not anymore.

"Please…" he moaned, hips jerking and driving down faster, meeting the thrusts of his hand as he arched back, desperately looking for _more_. "Oh please, can I…?"

"You want me to come inside you? Cause I will, angel... Just a little more… you keep fucking yourself on my dick…"

"Yes… fuck me… Please, Tiger… Oh fuck me, please…"

"Yeah, that's it, beg me… Ah shit, I'm fucking you so hard…"

It was getting too much, he could feel it. His head was being invaded by the notions of wet skin, blue silk, sharp teeth biting down on his neck, the feeling of a cock pounding into him rough and hard and so, so good… His head was tossing from side to side, slick stripes of dark hair sticking to his forehead, leading more water trickling down his face. Water washed down on him, thousands of tiny patters all over his body, his chest, the erection that slapped against his abdomen in time with his thrusts and it was too good, too much, too _hot_!

"I won't… I won't be able to stop…!" he managed, remembering how the other had made him interrupt just before the end earlier. "Please… I-I can't hold-… Fuck, you have to let me, I'm going to-… oh…_oh_!"

"That's it; you come all over my cock… Oh shit, yes, come for me… Blue, come for me now…! Fucking slut angel, come for me… _fuck_!" Tiger was rambling and biting the words out through his teeth, like he always did just seconds before and that's what finally did him in; that voice, like it always had… It was like fire; like white, blinding, _scorching_ fire and it washed over him, drowning him from within, making his eyes want to flare open and close tighter at the same time.

"Tiger…!" he whimpered, breathless and pleading. "Yes, oh _God,_ yes-!"

There was ringing in his ears, a rush like none he'd ever had that drowned out everything and he felt his body spams and twitch as his cock pulsed out thick stripes of come that splattered up on his own chest, some catching on the stubble of his chin before getting washed away by the water. He barely had the coherency to pull his fingers out of himself before every single muscle in his body decided to go on strike, leaving him in a shuddering heap on the tiled floor, trying to relearn how to breathe.

A absentmindedly noted that he had missed out on the sounds of Tiger's own orgasm, but at the moment he felt too damn good to be lowered by regret. Instead he laid there in the dark and listened to the sound of his own heartbeats, pounding away against his ribcage in a close to erratic beat, letting the static noise of running water and Tiger's strung out breathing fill his ears. The climax was still making him dizzy and a few feet away Tiger didn't seem to be any different, the gulping turning into silent, whining pants and Castiel caught himself smiling. Had they been in a bed this whole situation would probably have been the equality of cuddling, which wouldn't have been that bad when he thought of it, but at the moment, somehow the cold, hard floor he was lying on felt far more intimate than any sheet in the world ever would.

"Holy mother of-…" Tiger's groan sounded almost revering. "If only real sex was that good…"

Somewhere Castiel managed to find enough air to huff out a laugh.

"You mean you think this is better than the real thing?"

"Don't you?"

Cas slowly opened his eyes and threw a quick glance down at the semen still clinging to his skin.

"Touché." He mumbled and Tiger let out a tired chuckle.

"We're frickin awesome at this, aren't we?" he asked and Castiel smiled.

"We are…" he agreed.

"Doesn't it make you curious?"

"Of what?"

"What it would be like? You and me; in real life, I mean."

Castiel's smile faded slightly.

"Maybe…"

"I'm sensing a 'but' here…"

"_But_, it's complicated." Castiel sighed, pushing himself up into sitting position. "Like you so appropriately called it; I'm a suit… and I could get in real trouble over this."

"And I can't?" Tiger asked, sounding a bit offended.

"That's not what I meant." Castiel frowned.

"You're just saying that you've got more to lose than me?" Wow, now he sounded really ticked off and Castiel groaned, wondering how he always unconsciously managed to offend the other without even realizing it.

"That's not what I'm talking about either."

"Then what's it about?" Tiger demanded angrily. "It's just _sex_! Damnit, it's _barely _sex, how bad could it be?"

"Considering the homophobes I work for? Extremely." Castiel got up, reaching for his shampoo bottle. He needed to occupy himself with something or this could quickly escalate into a fight that he did not want to have right now.

"Extreme how exactly? Like what are they gonna do? Take away your company car? Give you a smaller office?" The condescending tone made Castiel jaw clench, but he bit down on the acid he wanted to throw back and instead took a deep breath, pouring a generous amount of soap into his hand.

"For your information I drive my own car." He started, deliberately keeping his voice as calm as possible as he cleaned his hands. "And if the wrong sort of people find out about this I'll be lucky if I'm still allowed in the broom closet."

"What? You mean like they would actually fire you over _this_?" Tiger did not sound convinced, even though some of the anger seemed to slip a little.

"Oh, they would." Castiel assured him, rinsing the large suds of soap off his fingers before grabbing the bottle once more, repeating the process.

"For masturbating in the company shower after hours?" the other asked, disbelieving.

"Without as much as a hitch."

Tiger appeared to back off after that because he didn't say anything else. Castiel rinsed his hands one more time before proceeding to clean his body from the spunk still latching on despite the steady flow of hot water.

"Then why do it?"

The voice sounded so close that Castiel whirled around, almost expecting to see the other standing behind him, but then he realized that Tiger must be leaning his head against the wall, speaking into the tiles.

"I don't know." He gruffed, lifting his face against the spray of water.

"You don't know?" Tiger didn't sound very convinced.

"I haven't really thought about it, okay."

"Now that's a load of crap."

"It doesn't matter why." Castiel grumbled. "I'm here aren't I?" He heard Tiger snort loudly on the other side of the wall.

"Of course it matters, what kind of a stupid thing is that to say?" he protested and Castiel had to fight the urge to say something very rude in return.

"What do you care?" he snapped instead. "You said it yourself that it was just sex."

"And sex is somehow supposed to make me incapable of _caring_?"

"Doesn't it?" Castiel glowered at the tiles.

"Of course it doesn't! I care. And I don't want anybody to go losing their job over me!"

"If I do then that's my problem, not yours." Castiel bit back.

"If they fire you because of this then what's stopping them from doing the same to me?"

Castiel's jaw shut abruptly.

"Exactly." Tiger snarled. "Nothing. For all I know you could be doing this because you _want_ to get caught."

"I have no such intentions." Castiel growled, starting to get more than fed up with the other's tone.

"Then what other reason do you have?" Tiger demanded. "You made a bet with someone? Am I part of some kind of fucked up rebound-period?! What?!"

"I've already told you it's nothing like that!"

"Then _why_ are you _here_?!"

"Because I _want to_!"

The words echoing back from the naked walls almost hit him like a slap in the face, leaving him both stunned and enlightened at the same time. The soapy foam on his body slowly dissolved under the showerhead and slid down his legs in frothy patches, disappearing down the drain like fluffy clouds disintegrating in the rain.

"Because I want to…" he repeated, whispering the words silently, amazed.

Of course he wanted to; he had known that from the start. Why else would he have sought this person out like he did in the first place? He _wanted_ to be here.

Because he wanted… he _wanted_…

"Perhaps you should just quit." Tiger said suddenly, tearing him away from his brooding.

"Quit?" he asked, utterly confused.

"Yeah, you know, walk in to the Big Bad's lair and tell him that you screw who you want, when you want and that you quit."

Castiel frowned at the wall.

"Why do _I_ have to be the one who quits?" he asked incredulously. "_You're_ the manual labor force, _you_ quit."

"Are you crazy? This place wouldn't last one day without my fine ass holding stuff together around here."

"You hold the company together with your ass?" He snorted. "Highly unlikely."

"What can I say, I'm a valuable _ass_et."

Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling, fighting the amused twitch in the corner of his mouth.

"That has got to be the dumbest joke I've ever heard." He mocked.

"Then stop smiling at it, _pen-pusher_."

"Hey, just because I have an office doesn't mean I sit around rolling my thumbs all day. I work too you know."

"Doesn't matter, you're still more expendable than me."

"But I still _outrank_ you. Face it; you'll be more likely to leave before I do."

"Then how about we both leave?" Tiger suggested. "Start our own company?"

"And what the hell would that company be doing?" Castiel raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I hear the phone-sex industry is doing pretty well these days."

"You're nuts." Castiel knew he wasn't doing a very good job on hiding his amusement and Tiger was quick to pick up on it because he continued, adding a thick layer of overly exaggerated enthusiasm to his voice,

"No, just think about; with your voice we could make _millions_!"

"So I'll have to do all the dirty work?" Cas leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, listening intently with a smirk on his face. "And what would _you_ be doing if I may ask?"

"Management of course." He made it sound as if that was the most natural choice in the world. "Not to mention that I would also have the privilege of fucking your brains out whenever I wanted to." He added smugly. "Even when you're working. The costumers surely won't mind..."

"I bet you would enjoy that you sick bastard." He was grinning like an idiot now, he couldn't help it.

"Mm yeah…" Tiger let out a moan that even though it was so obviously fake it still made Castiel's stomach flip. "You in one of those fancy little Bluetooth headsets, bent over a desk and clawing at stacks of paper… I think I would like that very much."

"Pervert."

"Or we could put the phone on speaker." Tiger continued, "Have us a little threesome right there on the-"

"Tiger." Castiel interrupted him softly.

"Huh?"

"Shut up."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

**_Hehehe, my, Tiger has such a dirty imagination, doesn't he? ;)_**

**_Sooo... what did you guys think? Was it too much? Too little? Did my grammar leave you in awe or with a killing migraine? Please drop me a line and let me know, I appreciate all the critique I can get! You've been awesome so far, I'm so happy for your help. _**

**_Awkwardly long hugs and flirtatious innuendos from me to all of you Lovelies! ;9  
_**


	5. Chapter 5

More weeks passed. Castiel's apartment still had no water and the workers kept stalling, but for some reason that didn't bother him much anymore because all he cared about now were Fridays. They filled up his mind, thoughts always lingering on things that were said and done, but also contemplating the many possible events he was going to mentally participate in soon enough. What sinful pleasures would they indulge in this week? What sexual fantasies would they voice to the clinically, white tiles while they braced themselves against that scorching fire that threatened to burn them from the inside out?

Tiger of course came up with new ideas constantly; Cas swore, that man must think about sex more than any other male on the planet! He always managed to conjure up new scenarios, new positions, and always new, marvelous, wondrous ways to make Cas become completely unaware of his surroundings, lost in ecstasy and euphoria. They had favorites, of course; scenes they replayed time after time that left them both cracked and shivering under sprays of steaming water. It was blissful...

They ended up talking to each other more too, which of course was inevitable. At first there were just having fleeting conversations, ice breakers and lingering good byes, but they soon evolved into something much more. Initially Castiel was tense with worry that one of them might slip up and mention something about themselves that they shouldn't have, but as things went on he slowly started to relax. So maybe Tiger had revealed that he was secretly a huge fan of Sesame Street and perhaps Castiel had let it slip that his guilty pleasure was cheeseburgers, but none of that would make it any easier for them to determine the other's identity. As long as no one mentioned addresses or names or anything else they could still talk normally, which they did, increasingly so.

Tiger told him all about his favorite movies, urging Castiel to watch them. Cas did end up renting one or two, even if he didn't care for the plot as much as Tiger did, but he still felt compelled to see them through to the end just so that he could tell Tiger that he had indeed watched them. It was silly, but he didn't want to disappoint the other by ignoring his attempts to educate him in popular culture.

This eventually led them to discuss whether movies were best enjoyed in a theater, in front of the TV or on DVD. Tiger preferred watching the old classics whenever they aired, seeing them as small unscheduled surprises that served to enlighten his day. Cas agreed, not because he enjoyed unscheduled surprises, but because he wasn't very fond of the theater and because it was more or less impossible for him to handle a DVD player on his own. This information makes Tiger laugh, but not in an insulting way. It's a pleasant laugh, the kind that you share with friends and family and it made him feel safe and accepted, despite his technical difficulties that other people often regarded as unpleasantly abnormal. It invoked enough encouragement within him to end up telling Tiger the story of how he'd managed to destroy three printers, one laptop and one overhead projector during his first year on the job alone. He also entrusts him with the embarrassing knowledge that he's completely incapable of changing the ringtone of his home phone because every time he tries the damn thing freezes up for an hour and wont stop playing the freaking tune.

This has Tiger almost crawling on the floor in a hysterical fit of laughter, but it still doesn't make Cas embarrassed or provokes any humiliation within him. Instead he ends up slumping against the wall, tears of his own streaming down his face as he desperately tries to finish the story, choking out the words through gasping breaths, positive that if he doesn't somehow manage to get his breathing under control he will die laughing himself.

Tiger says he has a brother who could probably help him with that – he's a tech genius and complete nerd and would surely be able to educate him in the more basic skills of how to handle a phone, but Castiel declines the offer with a snorted laugh, knowing that it was meant as a joke.

They talk about the pain of having siblings - Castiel from the view of a younger brother and Tiger from an older brother's perspective. They don't mention any names though, just to be safe. Turned out that Tiger and his brother used to indulge in prank wars whenever they found it necessary to blow off some steam, and Castiel would have to admit that some of the methods would even have Gabe impressed. Especially the Nair-shampoo prank Tiger had pulled on his brothers a few years ago.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side." He laughed and Tiger assured him that as long as he kept showing up each Friday he would have nothing to worry about.

Perhaps it's the way Tiger makes him laugh like that, like he hadn't in years, that eventually has him telling him about when his father left. He can't remember how they ended up on the subject, but he tells him everything about how his family broke, how it came to be the isolated, scattered remnants of relations that it was today…

He told him about how Michael turned into a religious fanatic afterwards; convinced that this was their punishment for not being good enough in the eyes of God, for not practicing the Written Word in the way The Bible wanted them to. He told him about Lucifer's attempt to talk his older brother straight, how their fighting eventually came to rip the family apart. About the night when Lucifer finally had enough, when Michael beat him into a bloody pulp and then threw him out of the house into the pouring rain while a twelve year old Gabriel hid in the closet, hands covering Castiel's ears so that he wouldn't have to hear what was happening on the other side of that door. How Castiel had cried when Anna had run away the very next day and the way Michael had become even more obsessed with his religion, forcing the remaining three siblings into a straight line guided by religious misconception and military discipline. Balthazar did as he was told, sarcastically of course and Castiel was too young to put up any resistance, but Gabriel on the other hand had been rebellious enough for the three of them. Not only did he take whatever orders Michael gave him and threw them back in his face, but he also made it his life goal to flaunt his deviating sexuality as much as he could. Got himself beaten up for his trouble more than once of course, but he greeted the fist to his face with the same, shit-eating grin like he greeted everything else that ever tried to put a leash on him, driving Michael to the brink of his slowly faltering sanity. Sometimes Castiel would feel guilty about it because Michael focused so much on Gabriel that he completely overlooked the fact that Castiel grew up to be gay. Had it not been for his older brother Cas was not sure if he would have made it through his childhood as undamaged as he had. Michael would have broken him, just the way he tried to break Gabriel, only succeeding…

He told him how Balthazar split soon after, leaving the other behind and how on the very day Gabriel turned sixteen, he and Castiel moved out too. Or rather; they took their stuff and ran. Far away, just got on a buss and never looked back. They found a place to stay, got themselves jobs and slowly, day by day they managed to turn their lives around.

Tiger listened quietly until he was finished, never interrupting or asking questions, but when Castiel's last word rang out against the tiles he let out a slow, shaky breath and then he started talking as well.

He told Castiel how he lost his mother and father in a fire when he and his brother were just kids, how they were raised by a friend of the family named Bobby instead and just like Cas and his brother they stuck together through thick and thin – tied together by a mental connection that none of them could describe. He explains how he took it upon himself to keep his brother safe; that he still to this day feels this compelling need to watch out for him even though they're both grown ups. How the bond he shares with his brother has ruined more than one attempted relationship throughout the years, people incapable of understanding the duty he thinks himself obligated to withhold.

"It's stupid really…" he mutters and Castiel finds himself silently agreeing to that.

"Your brother…" he says slowly. "Do you think he would want you to carry this burden by yourself?"

"He'd probably kick my ass for just thinking about it."

"Then doesn't that say it all?"

There was no answer from the other side and Castiel leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the tiles.

"You cannot carry the load of your family forever, Ti." He pointed out. "If your brother and you share this bond you speak of, then I doubt he would want you to do this to yourself either. He'd want you to be happy, wouldn't he?"

"He has mentioned it on occasion…" Tiger grumbled back.

"Then perhaps you should start listening more."

"I guess I could always try."

"You do, or you do not. There is no try."

For a moment there was silence and then Tiger's voice came drifting through, a little bit awestruck.

"Dude… did you just pull a full on Yoda on me?" he asked disbelieving.

"Well, the phrase ´Luke, I am your father' did not seem like a suitable response." Cas couldn't help but to roll his eyes to the ceiling at that one.

"Nah, that would have been a bit kinky, wouldn't it?." Cas's lip curled into a mischievous smirk.

"But then again…" he drawled, making sure that low timbre the other liked so much shone through in his voice, "In case role-play turns you on…"

"Dude, I'm not jerking off to someone sounding like Yoda!" He actually sounded appalled by the very idea.

"Really?" The smirk grew wider. "So you're saying that even your perverseness has a limit?"

"Oh, there's a limit alright, and it's drawn right here."

"You sure? I can do Vader if you want?"

"No, absolutely not."

"No? Jar Jar Binx then?"

"No!"

"R2-D2?"

"_Blue_!"

Castiel barely managed to contain a laugh at the disgusted wince in the other's voice.

"I sat through six movies for your sake, and now you're not even going to take advantage of that? I'm disappointed, Tiger, very disappointed."

"Shut up. You'd be too shy to do it properly anyway."

Castiel straightened up with a huff, tracing the seams between the tiles with his index finger.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"That you're still too much of a prude to do something like that. It would be more awkward for you than for me and besides, you still haven't managed to get the dirty talk right."

"I have too!" Castiel objected.

"Yeah, but not like _that_. You moan and say nasty things when I tell you to, but it's not the same."

"You're saying I'm not turning you on?" Cas scowled, but Tiger just laughed, letting out a longing sigh.

"Oh, angel, baby, you know you do… But I'm talking about your vocabulary here, not your sex-appeal."

"I don't follow."

"I mean, you say fuck and cock and dick and all, but that's about it isn't it? You answer when I ask you things, tell me how good it feels, but you never say anything back. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the thought of me fucking you speechless, but it would be nice if you'd reciprocate once in a while, you know?"

Castiel nodded. He couldn't argue with that. He had improved, no doubt, but he still hadn't come to the final step of actually taking the lead during their weekly sessions.

"I see your point." He admitted.

"Then how about I make you a deal?" Tiger suggested and Castiel glanced up at the tiles.

"What deal?" he asked, feeling a suspicious stirring in his stomach.

"If you come here next Friday and you make sure to give me a proper show, then I promise to give you something in return."

"Like what?"

"That's a surprise."

Tiger was smirking. That was never a good sign. And with never he meant _always_.

He thought about the offer, trying to decipher exactly what the other wanted him to do.

"When you say 'show', do you mean-…?"

"I mean you talk and I listen. I want you to paint me a picture, Blue. A vivid, obscene, filthy picture that will have me splashing the wall with my cum in minutes. You think you can do that?"

As if that last sentence could have him denying anything...

"You promise not to hold back on me?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"Oh, you just make sure to say the right things and I promise to scream my voice hoarse for you, baby."

He could feel his pulse quicken as his body instinctively reacted to the husky suggestion by pumping blood straight south and he moaned shamelessly.

"You have to stop talking like that, or we're going to be here all night…"

"Yeah, and wouldn't that be a shame… I like it when I make you come twice, you always get that desperate whine in your voice towards the end… It drives me crazy…"

Castiel hummed, dragging his hands lazily down his body.

"You need to leave anytime soon?" he mumbled, but received a dark chuckle in response.

"Trust me, I'd love to stay, but I have somewhere I need to be early tomorrow morning."

"Now _that_ is a shame."

"Mmm, tell me about it…"

There were the usual sounds of water being turned off and the sound of a towel being grabbed and wrapped.

"You make sure to practice now. I expect something really spectacular when I get here on Friday."

"Practice? How?" Castiel was confused, but Tiger only gave that low chuckle again.

"I'm sure you'll get your inspiration from somewhere…" he said cryptically and then he walked out the door.

Castiel stayed behind for another ten minutes like always in order to make sure Tiger had enough time to get dressed and leave. He contemplated on if he should take the opportunity to jerk off one more time, but he decided not to. It didn't feel right doing it without Tiger present, almost as if he would be cheating, which was a ridiculous thought really… Once he deemed it safe, he left the showers and entered the locker room, passing the many rows of cabinets until he reached the one where he had lazily flung his clothes out over the bench, only bothering to lock up his wallet and cellphone inside the actual cabinet before hitting the shower and there, on the bench next to his blue tie there was a box waiting for him.

It was ordinary looking, made out of brown cardboard with a detachable lid, about the same size of a shoe box. He glanced down the row of lockers, looking for any signs of movement before slowly approaching the parcel, holding his towel in place around his waist with one hand. There was a note attached to the box, an ordinary yellow post-it with a single words scribbled in large, pointy letters.

"_Inspiration."_

He scowled, eyeing the gift once more before lifting off the lid and looking down at its contents. It took him a good five seconds or so before he realized what he was looking at, but once the image made impact with his brain he slammed the box shut, ears glowing red and cheeks hot and burning.

_Tiger, for fuck sakes!_

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Castiel was pacing. He was alone in the apartment, Gabriel gone to spend the weekend with his beloved Moose. Now, he wasn't pacing because he was alone and in lack of entertainment, no, he was pacing because he could not bring himself to sit down.

Every time he passed the TV his eyes would drift to the rectangular box sitting on the coffee table only to rip away just as quickly with a ferocious blush creeping higher on his face.

It was ridiculous. Insane even, but god damn it, the thought behind it; what it _meant_ was almost too much to grasp. Too freaking _hot_!

He could barely stand the idea alone, so how was he ever supposed to...?

He stopped, eyes locking on the innocent looking, brown box. If he was going to do this, then he'd better do it now when he knew Gabriel wasn't coming home and could be certain not to be interrupted. This was most definitely not something you did under the prospects of getting caught.

His body shivered, insides stirring from the exhilaration he had been trying to stifle ever since Gabriel left. He inhaled deeply, gathering himself and then released the air in one big gush before resolutely striding over to the sofa, sitting down in the middle of it. With hands close to shaking, he then reached out and carefully lifted the lid off, placing it next to the box on the table top in an almost obsessively organized manner. He carefully wiped his palms off on his trousers before tenderly lifting up the second piece of paper that had been enclosed inside the parcel, reading the headline one more time.

It was an instruction pamphlet originating from the enclosed item's original packaging, plain white with black text divided into paragraphs describing how to use the product. There was no need for him to read those of course; seeing as Tiger had already taken care of that part. His heart skipped when the mental images kicked in; Tiger plucking with the different components, preparing and putting time and effort into getting it all right while thinking of him…

He placed the instructions down next to the lid, carefully straightening out the crevasses with delicately trembling fingers.

The second item to be retrieved from the box and placed on the table was a bottle of lube. Water-based and odor-free with a convenient pump mechanism on the lid.

Castiel's heart was beating viciously now, hands shaking as he undid the buttons of his jeans and slid the garment off along with his boxers before leaning back against the couch. As an afterthought he then sat back up again and removed his t-shirt as well, flinging it over the armrest and out of sight.

Once naked he grabbed the lube and pumped out a small amount of liquid onto his fingertips. His cock was already standing stiff and he barely managed to stifle a hiss when he smeared the cold lube over the heated skin. He closed the grip around the length and pumped roughly two times, punching a moan out of his lungs that startled even himself. The lube was slick and the wet sound it produced when he moved his hand up and down was obscenely exiting. He forced himself to let go, scared that if he didn't he would lose himself before he even got started. More lube was pumped out and fingers were brought down past the soft skin of his testicles, sliding and working against the furled edges of his entrance, not wasting any time. This was nothing like the time in the shower when Tiger had made him go halfway and then wait, no, this was faster, rougher and far more impatient, digits moving determinedly, with intent and purpose. Weeks had passed since that time, and Cas had been given more than one occasion to indulge in this kind of intimate pleasure with both Tiger and himself since then, giving that his body now gave way for his fingers easily, the heat opening up and allowing him access in a matter of minutes. His breath was coming in heavy pants as he fought to reach that spot inside him that would grant him that mind-blowing pleasure once more, fingers flexing and scissoring but not quite able to reach all the way.

His thoughts went to Tiger, of course, how could they not considering what he was doing, what he was about to do, and the reminder had him moaning loudly, thrusting the fingers in harder.

He would be able to come like this, just like this, splayed out on the sofa, but he wasn't going to, because that's not what Tiger had planned out for him. Half-lidded eyes drifted to the box on the table and he quickly stilled the movement of his hand, desire cutting through him like a razor.

Oh yes, Tiger had plans for him…

He straightened up, pulling the fingers out and meticulously dried them off on one of the wet wipes he had been careful enough to place out next to him in advance. Making sure he was clean he then looked at the box again, cock twitching eagerly as he reached forth, grasping around the object inside and pulling it out of the carton.

It was a dildo. A flesh colored, authentic looking dildo molded in silicone. The surface was smooth to the touch and Castiel could trace every vein and every curve of it as he slid his fingertips over the length. He gripped around its base, tentatively, testing out the feel of it against the palm of his hand and his breath hitched as he allowed it to slide over the circumcised head because fuck, it was just perfect. Slightly curved, long and thick with a rounded, mushroom shaped tip that had his heart racing, imagining what it would feel like inside him in just a matter of minutes...

He threw a glance at the flattened paper with instructions lying on the coffee table, the name of the product beaming back at him in big, black letters;

"_Clone-a-Willy"._

Once again he wasn't sure if he wanted to moan, laugh or blush…

The fucker had actually gone and made him a dildo molded from his own dick!

The mere idea was so silly, so intimate and so downright intoxicatingly arousing all at once, and he only one who seemed to know what to do with that piece of information was the flushed erection bobbing from his groin.

He squirted more lubricant into the palm of his hand and then smeared it out over the silicone surface, studying how the clear substance glistened and spread under his touch, following the veiny texture in thick droplets.

_I wonder what he likes…_ he thought, mind drifting. The realization struck him that even though they had been doing this for a while now; Tiger had never gone into details describing just _how_ he jerked off. He had never said if he enjoyed the same twisting motion on his cock that Castiel knew he himself liked or if he preferred to just pump it, fucking into his own hand… He traced two fingers along the veins on the underside of the artificial cock in his hand, trying to imagine what it would feel like in real life, which responses he would be able to coax out… It was a shame he had already poured lube on it, otherwise he would have liked to take it into his mouth, just to test the feel of it against his tongue, the strain in his jaw…

A month ago the thought of taking anything into his mouth while masturbating would have made him feel awkward and stupid, but like everything else with Tiger, this was _different_. So very, very different…

Dragging his hand over the dildo one last time he then adjusted himself on the couch, bringing his feet up and bracing himself on the coffee table before he lined it up, pushing the toy lightly against his hole, releasing a shuddering breath and halting when he felt the size of it press against him.

He had never had something as big as this inside him before, the reason to his earlier pacing being him trying to decide whether he should even entertain the thought, but now those thoughts were long gone because he wanted to, oh yes he wanted to; just the feel of it, longing to know what the sensation of being filled and stretched completely would be like.

He willed himself to relax, breathing deeply and gave the piece an experimental push, breath hitching when his body gave way for the pressure and just like that, the head of the phallus replica was inside him. He kept pushing, mouth falling open when the dildo kept sliding in, inch by glorious inch and the slow pace was driving him insane. He felt like the air in his lungs had been stolen away, the unfamiliar stretch rendering him incapable of anything but panting and gasping and it wasn't until the firm length was fully sheeted inside him that he was able to breathe again. He could feel the muscles clench and unclench around the rod in time with his heartbeat, the pulse reverbing throughout his entire body and it was tight, so incredibly tight and he had to stop for a moment, forcing his hand to stop moving, knowing that it would only hurt if he went too fast.

He started out carefully, thrusting in and out in small, shallow motions, but even that was enough to make the breath catch in his throat. Usually when he used his fingers he had to search for the right angle, the exact spot, but now there was no such need. The smallest of movements caught on to the bundle of nerves inside him and he was certain that he would be able to stimulate himself perfectly simply by rocking his hips back and forth.

Oh, the fantasies in his head would never be the same, not now when he knew what it would feel like having him inside, the sheer size of him…

He leaned his head back against the couch, daring to pull out a little further, push in a little harder. Inspiration, that's what the note had said. It was almost laughable, how could this possible help making his dirty talk more fluent when all it had managed so far was to render him both speech and breathless?

Maybe Tiger wanted him to re-tell how he had used it? That was an entertaining thought; it felt just like something Tiger would like.

He swallowed, moaning silently. Yes, Tiger would really like to hear about this, he was sure. He would be thrilled to hear Castiel tell him just how much he enjoyed the feel of having him inside him. Describe how the mere shape of his cock would have him on the verge of coming just like that. He could almost hear the groan the other would make at that and it made him toss his head to the side and press his face into the cushion, his free hand shooting up to grapple the top of the backrest.

He slid his body down lower, using the leverage of the table to tilt his hips up, giving him a better reach and he moaned when he pushed the dildo in to the hilt, switching his grip from around the base to the little nub conveniently placed at the bottom as a handle instead. His back arched as if by it's own will and he stifled a moan only to remember that he wasn't doing this in order to learn how to keep quiet. He tried again, putting a bit more of his vocal chords into it and it was amazing what a difference that made, his own voice reverbing through his chest and abs with the zing of a lightning bolt. Tiger's voice came drifting to him through memory, breathy and strung out.

_Yeah, you moan for me, little angel… Loud and filthy just like that…_

"Tiger…" he allowed the name to leave his mouth in a breathless gasp.

_You like having my cock inside you? Having it fill you up like this?"_

"Yes… God yes…"

_Mmm, just look at you… what a little slut you are…_

He moaned, loudly this time.

"Only for you…" he almost smiled at that because the moment the words left his mouth he realized that it was true. No way would he ever do this for someone else. Not in a million years… Only for this perverted bastard would he spread himself out, moaning like a whore while fucking himself on his brother's couch. So maybe he was a slut, but at least he was Tiger's slut…

_Spread you legs wider._

He hooked the one free hand under his left knee, pulling it up and off its perch on the coffee table.

_Go faster. Harder._

His jaw slackened and all of a sudden it was as if his lungs ceased to function as his hand started moving, shoving in and pulling out faster than he could draw breath. It was ecstatic, pleasure pulling him apart and putting him together over and over again. He couldn't make sounds, he couldn't breathe, only squirm and rock against the hardness inside him. Oh Tiger would love this… he would _love_ this…!

To think that even here, now, that man was wielding his power over him as efficiently as had he been standing right there by the edge of the sofa, telling him just what to do and when to do it. It made him think about what else he would say had he been here. What position would he want him in? What would he like Castiel to do had he been here right now? What would he like him to say?

"Fuck me… oh Tiger fuck me…"

_That's not good enough, angel... _

"Want… I need… Tiger, please…"

_You want me to fuck you, Blue? Is that what you want? You sure about that…?_

He stilled, allowing himself to catch his breath.

Did he want Tiger to fuck him? Was that really what he wanted right now? Or did he want something else…?

_Are you sure…?_

Another thought entered his mind, slid into his conscious with a heat that made him shudder.

The thought of Tiger, spread out beneath him with hands fisting the ragged material of the sofa with his throat bared, head tossed back as Castiel rode him. Slowly, sensually… dragging it out just to hear that throaty voice crack when he began whispering unabashed words against the shell of his ear...

He let go of his leg, bringing it back down and quickly twisted around so that he was kneeling on the couch, his back against the TV and one hand on the backrest. The other was holding on to the dildo, preventing it from sliding out, moving it up and down. He tried to relax, to enjoy the new position, but it felt too awkward, not nearly as satisfying as he had imagined it. His arm wasn't able to stretch far enough to pull the device out or to thrust it in hard enough. He tried switching the position of his arm, gripping the dildo from the front instead of the back, but with basically the same result. It was frustrating to say the least. He wanted to do this, to be able to indulge in this newly discovered fantasy, but now he wasn't able to because of something as stupid as the length of his arms? This way was even worse, because now the cushion of the sofa was preventing him to even pull it out properly, the back of his hand hitting the fabric every time he tried.

Stupid couch, if only it hadn't been so…

He stopped, looking down at the padded surface between his legs and slowly he let go of the dildo, bringing the hand up so that both his hands now clutched around the top of the couch instead. He could feel the dildo slowly starting to ease out, but he allowed it to until it abruptly stopped when the bottom of the length hit the sofa beneath him, then he tentatively lowered himself down over it experimentally before lifting himself up again.

Oh yes, this angle was so much better, more realistic... Only thing bothering him was the he wasn't able to do it as fast as he would want it to. Instead he had to wait for the toy to slide out on its own and that simply wouldn't do. He needed something that would hold the dildo in place when he pushed himself up so that it wouldn't follow with the movement. He grunted, throwing a quick look around to see if there was anything within reach that would be able to help him with that. This was a completely new aspect of masturbating for him, he wasn't used to having to interrupt himself like this over and over and the thought of actually having to get up and get something to hold the dildo still was not very welcomed. However, a quick readjustment to the left provided him with the perfect solution as he now could wedge the bottom half of the dildo down in-between two of the three sitting cushions, thusly keeping it steady and he shoved himself down almost forcefully, growing far too impatient to take it slow anymore.

"Fuck…!"

Yes, this was it…! Just like that, oh yes…! He rocked his hips, riding the silicone with circular movements, occasionally lifting himself up and thrusting back down, altering the pace to keep himself constantly on edge. The fantasy sprung to life beneath him again, more vivid and real than before. The hard seat in the clutches of his hands were not a couch anymore, but arms, strong and tense, and he leaned his head down, resting it on the back board, breathing harshly into the fabric.

"Shit Tiger… oh fuck this feels so good…"

_Mmm, tell me about it… _

"You like it when I ride you like this don't you…? When I pin you down and fuck myself on your cock…"

_Oh yeah… Fuck yeah…_

His hands opened and closed, fighting the urge to reach down and stroke himself. Not yet… not yet…

"Wanna make you come like this… Wanna see you lose control…" The Tiger in his mind curled his lips in a smug grin, only to moan seconds later.

_And how- ah..! How would you… do that exactly…?_

"I would make you beg for it… Pay you back for all those times you've made me beg for you…"

His body jerked, and he groaned, hips rolling in bigger circles and fuck he wished he could have leaned down and suckled on Tiger's throat, bite his earlobe, growl into his ear… The dildo was moving so easily now, jabbing and pressing against his prostate with every single movement and it was so good, so very good…

"Fuck I could come like this…" he whispered. "Just feeling you inside me… You're so thick, fucking spreading me like a fucking whore and- oh shit…"

His body was spasming, toes curling. It was different from the times in the showers, this was so much more torturous somehow; the slow pace, his conscious decision not to touch himself until the very last minute… This masochistic streak was becoming more prominent to him the more he explored this new, sexual part of himself and he didn't regret a thing. His breath was getting uneven; his eyes rolling back into his head and fuck he was getting close… just a little more, a little more, just a little…

He thrust down, hard, at the same time as he rolled his hips and suddenly there was a loud whirr, as if someone had started up a power tool and Castiel launched himself up, clawing at the couch with eyes blown wide, mouth opened in a silent scream because holy _fuck_, oh _sweet_ mother of-…!

A vibrator! The bastard put in a _vibrator_!

"Oh fuck… _Oh fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck_!"

His eyes fluttered close and he tried to get away, almost climbing over the back rest of the sofa in his desperation to make it stop because he _couldn't_! It was too much, he _couldn't_, and the fact that all he had to do was to reach down and pull the dildo out was completely lost in the pleasure assaulting the only part of his brain that was still functioning. The vibrator was pulsating against his prostate, thrumming and making every muscle in his body twitch and convulse and he couldn't stop it; there was no way he could stop it. He fell forward, feeling panic rise as his right hand scrambled blindly on the seat next to him for the rest of the paper tissues. He held on, trying to think about how Gabriel would kill him if he ruined his couch, but every reasonable thought got drowned out by the vibrator whirring inside his ass. His hips pistoned forward without his consents, the tip of his erection pressing and grinding against the rough textile and that was it; that harsh contact being all it took…

"Tiger…! Tiger, yes…! Yes, oh yes, yes, _yes_!"

His hand clutched around something that definitely wasn't a paper tissue, but he didn't have the coherency to care about what it was and he ruthlessly shoved it in between his legs, spilling his release into the object with a broken yell that cracked in his throat.

It felt as if the orgasm went on forever, and he gulped in air like a drowning man once he came down from his high and he barely managed to catch the vibrator before it hit the sofa when it slid out of him. He fumbled with the device, finally managing to turn the blasted thing off and after that he fell down, collapsing into a gasping, trembling pile of satisfied mush on the couch, burying his face in the corner of the armrest with a groan.

"I'm going to kill him…" he panted, another spasm wrecking through his limbs and making him shake uncontrollably. "I'll let him fuck me… and then I'm going to kill him…"

He looked down at the two items still clutched in his hands and groaned again, dropping the soiled remains of Gabriel's discarded jersey onto the floor.

_As long as Gabriel doesn't kill me first…_

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_Now, don't look at me like that. I thought I was being creative... _


	6. Chapter 6

_Yeah, so… this is crap. I feel like I've failed horribly with this chapter, but I simply don't have the energy to stare at my fucked up writing anymore, so here you have it. I promise the next one will be better though so please bear with me through this… =(  
_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When Uriel enters Zachariah's office his boss is standing by the book case in the middle of the process of adjusting what appears to be a large, porcelain urn perching on top of a tall pedestal. It looks old, like something dug out of a crypt in ancient Egypt, a few cracks and chipped edges adorning its sand like surface and just like everything else in Zachariah's office it looks abundantly expensive. The man in question is wearing a look of serious contemplation on his face and he does not turn around when Uriel opens the door, but Uriel knows that his presence has been noted so he simply waits. Zachariah turns the relic a quarter to the right, takes half a step back and regards his work, then turns it back to its original position once more.

Uriel watches in silence as the procedure is repeated, vase shifting and eyes watching intently. He doesn't recognize the large piece of art in the smaller man's hands, meaning that it must be a new addition to the various items which decorates the office's exquisite furnishing; all heavy, dark wood, like the insides of an old English mansion, shelves and walls filled with art and undoubtedly rare artifacts. Uriel doesn't like it. The whole concept would have worked had Zachariah been a freelancing Indiana Jones, but Uriel does not think that buying off the items on some auction justified this kind of excessive flaunting.

The balding man by the bookcase shifts the vase one final time before he turns around, finally satisfied with his work and beams a smile at him. Uriel does not smile back; he knows that the gleaming row of teeth presented to him is not sincerely meant so why should he?

"Ah, Uriel. What can I do for you?"

Zachariah flops himself down behind his large, oak desk, offering him a seat in one of the two chairs in front of it, but Uriel turns it down politely and takes place standing in between them instead. He does not like sitting in those chair – it always gives him the feeling as if he's up for potential execution, probably because it forces him down to eyelevel with Zachariah, and that man could be intimidating despite Uriel's apparent advantage in height. At the moment he had nothing to fear however, turning the offer of a seat down in confident knowledge that his visit will not be long-lasting.

"Actually, sir, you were the one requesting me." He reminds politely, but Zachariah only waves his hand dismissively at the comment.

"Yes, I know that, it's just a figure of speech. Did you bring the files?"

Without a word, Uriel hands him a small portfolio and Zachariah grasps it greedily, snatching it open and begins to paw through the files inside. Each paper folder is adorned with a photo, a name and a number of employment listed on the front and as the suit clad man works his way through he throws a few of the folders out on his desk while leaving others in place inside the portfolio.

Suddenly he stops, looking down at a file with a frown.

"What's _he_ doing in here?"

Uriel leans over in order to see which file the other man is referring to. The left corner of his mouth twitches when he sees who it is.

"I thought you might be interested in him." He says calmly, voice betraying nothing. "His salary is higher than the ones we usually pick and since we won't be able to sort out as many this time I though a little bonus might not be unwelcomed?"

Zachariah eyes the file, opening it up and skimming through the content inside.

"Do we have reason to pick him?" he gruffs. "I don't want anybody to come poking their nose in this later on, you know."

"We believe we have a firm grip on him." Uriel assures him. "He won't argue; the man has an… investment in the company that he would not risk to compromise."

"Threats, Uriel? Really?" Zachariah's lips curl up in a cruel grin.

"Forgive me, sir," Uriel drawls "but we are running out of legitimate reasons. If you really wish to continue this then threats is the method we'll have to use."

Zachariah nods, dragging a finger thoughtfully along his lower lip before sighing and tossing the folder amongst the others on his desk.

"It's a shame; he seems to be good at what he does."

"He is." Uriel nods.

"Well, there are always others who will work for less." Zachariah closes the portfolio and hands it back over the table with a poorly concealed look of disdain on his face. "Take these back to human resources." He gestures to the pile scrambled next to his keyboard. "You know what to do with the rest."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Castiel is waiting.

He has been waiting for almost half an hour and he was starting to get really worried. Tiger was never late. Not in four months had he been late; not once.

So why wasn't he here yet?

Hot water sprayed down on him from above, but the usually so soothing heat did nothing to calm or ease the tension curling in his body. Normally he would be pacing by now, but it was hard to pace in the small area of the stall he was in, which was not helping him to handle his building anxiety one bit. Two steps in either direction was not much space to let out steam in, and he was growing twitchier by the minute. He had toyed with the thought of starting ahead, so that once Tiger arrived he would be greeted by loud moans and the wet slap of skin and water, but he didn't want to divert from the plan he had so carefully laid out inside his head. He had gone through the things he was planning to say for the hundredth time already; had perfected every tone and syllable inside his head so that he could be sure to deliver them in a way that would take Tiger's breath away, but now he did it once more, mouthing the phrases silently to himself and reciting them from memory. The dildo he had been given was lying next to him on the floor; he didn't know if Tiger would like him to use it while he spoke so he had brought it along just in case… The thought of having the toy inside him while Tiger listened was enough to make his stomach stir with excitement, but not enough to quench the nerves that were causing his hands to shake. He was nervous, he wasn't denying it. He had never held a monologue like this before, had never even considered the thought and not only did he have to worry about the many way's he could screw it up, but now Tiger wasn't even here?

For the infinite time that evening he cursed the fact that there was no clock inside the shower room.

Something could have happened of course; the thought was not alien even though he tried his best not to linger on it. Tiger could have had an accident; if he did work on the floor in the machine hall there was no telling what hazards he could be exposed to. Images of giant cogs capable of crushing and grinding limbs to dust filled his head and made his stomach tighten. Or maybe he got hit by a car on the way to work this morning? He could be at the hospital at this very moment! Legs broken and strung up in a cast, ribs cracked, head split, in a coma… Scenario after scenario continued to paint out before him and he was on the verge of getting out of the shower when the lights on the other side of the tiny window in the shower door flickered and lit up.

Oh thank god…

He closed his eyes, the tension in his shoulders rushing away quicker than the water that flowed over his skin and he waited, knowing that it would take another five minutes or so before Tiger joined him, but to his surprise the door swung open after only a couple of seconds, the sound of still shoe clad feet reverbing off the walls.

"Tiger?" he called out hesitantly, turning his back to the room in case it wasn't actually him.

"Yeah…"

He relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh at the sound of the other's voice.

"Where the hell have you been?" he wondered. "I was starting to think something happened to you."

The footsteps stopped.

"I got tied up."

"Not literally I reckon?" Castiel smirked, thinking it best to start with the sexual innuendos right away. "I was kind of hoping I'd get to do that myself."

"No, I got stuck in… a meeting."

Castiel scowled. There was something off about Tiger's voice, and was it just him or had he also just ignored an open invitation to discuss kinky sex?

"A meeting?" he asked, not commenting on the obvious lack of perverted responses. "I didn't know you had meetings."

"Well I had one today." Tiger muttered back.

"Alright, well that's fine I guess…" He licked his lips, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that the other's voice gave him. "So are you going to undress or do you wanna keep your clothes on today?" He was teasing, trying to lighten the mood, but all he got in return was a low murmur and he would have missed it had he not already been listening so intensely.

"I'm not staying."

The frown on Castiel's face grew even deeper.

"What?"

"I have to leave."

"But you just got here!" Cas objected and he could almost hear the sound when the other carded frustrated fingers through his hair.

"I know, but I can't stay."

There was a tone in Tiger's voice that Castiel had never heard before. It was like an echo; a hollow, empty sound that he could not pin down… and it scared the living hell out of him.

"Alright…" he nodded, trying to stay positive. "It's fine, I understand… We can do this next week instead; it doesn't really ma-..."

"There won't be a next week." Tiger interrupted him. "I-… I won't be able do this anymore."

Castiel's mouth fell open and his heart felt as if it had just dropped trough the floor.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, thinking that it must be joke. Tiger was playing him, the bastard, he had to be. Footsteps echoed, coming closer and Castiel heard the thud of a body leaning against the other side of the wall separating the stalls; clothes rustling when Tiger slid down to sit on the floor.

"Tiger," he repeated, harsher "you're kidding me, right?"

"God, I wish I was…"

Castiel swallowed hard.

"But… I don't understand." He breathed, feeling dread rise in his chest. "Why not?"

"You know how you once told me that if your bosses found out about this you could lose your job?"

Castiel's stomach drew together so tight he thought he was going to throw up.

"Yes…?" he answered shakily.

"Well…" Tiger chuckled, but it was a dark, vacant laughter that made Castiel's gut freeze. "Good news is you won't have to worry about that anymore."

"I'm not sure if I foll-…"

"The _bad_ news," Tiger cut him off, "is that there won't be a 'this' to worry about either…"

His knees felt so weak. So incredibly feeble and frail, every muscle in his body slowly giving away and he slumped forward, pressing his forehead against the wall with both hands splayed over the tiles, water trickling between his fingers, head spinning, feeling sick.

"Tiger, what are you saying?" he winced and there was another tired sigh, another sad, hollow sound.

"I was given the pink slip today."

The words cut like a knife, the pain of them leaving him stunned and in shock.

"You… I-I don't understand…" he stuttered. "Why?"

"I got called up to the big guy's office." Tiger answered. "They put me in this fancy room with a big ass desk, smiled, offered me god damn _coffee_ and told me that I was fired." Tiger's teeth gnashed and Castiel could see how a fist clenched before his inner vision… or was it his own?

"They told me they had people reporting that I've been working late in order to do private gigs, using the company's workshop to earn extra money on the side."

A tiny voice inside his head informed Castiel that Tiger had basically just revealed what he did for a living, but the other panicking voice drowned it out. His brain was going into overdrive, struggling to take it all in, to separate the different components from each other and bring order to the chaos he had been hurled into.

"Have you?" he finally asked and flinched when Tiger snarled back.

"Like fuck I have! I do overtime because we've been swarmed with work ever since those damn cut-backs started. And because I needed the money. Whoever's saying I'm doing private business on the company's expense is a fucking liar!"

"I didn't mean to offend you." Castiel apologized quickly and Tiger groaned.

"I know. Sorry, I'm just… I'm just pissed off you know? I mean, I've been busting my ass for this company for almost ten years, and now I get cut lose because of something like this? I mean, no investigation? No warning, no _nothing_?!" The last word got punctuated with what sounded like a boot colliding forcefully with a wall and Castiel's fingers dug into the seams of the tiles in front of him.

"They are not allowed to do this…" he growled, anger flaring up like a beacon. "There are regulations, _guidelines_…! They can't just fire you without an investigation, Tiger… Ti, you have to fight this!"

The sigh he got in return sounded broken.

"I can't…"

"I'll help you," he assured. "I can talk to people, I know-"

"You don't breathe a word about this to anyone!"

Tiger's voice snapped at him like the edge of a whip and Castiel actually backed away from the wall he had been leaning on just moment's ago.

"Just stay out of it." Tiger's voice was hard, unyielding and Castiel stared at the wall, at the white tiles that separated the stalls; _their_ stalls…

"Ti." he begged. "Please… let me help you."

"No. This doesn't concern you."

Something inside him cracked at those words, sending a shudder that reverbed through him like the singing, black ice on a frozen lake; because of course it concerned him. It concerned him because it was _Tiger_! How could he even say something like that?!

"Why are you acting like this?"

"I'm not acting like anything."

"Yes you are. This is not you. The Tiger I know would never go down without a fight. He wouldn't just lie down and take a beating like this."

"Listen, there's nothing you can do so just _drop it_." Tiger growled.

"You don't know that." Castiel objected and then another thought struck him. "There's more to this than just you being fired, isn't there?"

"Damn it Blue, I said-!"

"I don't care what you said!" he was actually yelling now, anger rising like bile in his throat because he was not going to let Tiger shut him out like this, not now! "I want to help you, so tell me what's going on!"

"Nothing's going on!"

"Yes there is! Did they say something about me? Did they find out about us, is that it?"

"No..."

"Then what did they say? Because they said _something_!"

He could hear Tiger draw breath, sharply as if he was going to say something more, but then he let it out again slowly, groaning as if the air dragging from his lungs caused him pain.

"They…" he made a low sound in the back of his throat. "They threatened my brother…"

The words felt like a punch to the face.

"What?"

Tiger sighed again, almost a whimper and the tone Castiel had been trying to identify ever since the other entered the room was suddenly evidently clear.

"They threatened to fire my brother…" Hopeless… defeated… "They told me that if I didn't go quietly he would be next." Worn and tired. "I can't let that happen. Even if they're bluffing, I can't risk it. I just can't…"

The emotions wrestling inside Cas's body were almost too much to take. First Tiger getting fired… Then Tiger getting fired based on false accusations and now _threats_? What was going on here?!

"There has to be a way." He mumbled. "I know people who can help, they-"

"Blue, you stay the fuck out of this, you hear me?" Tiger's voice was hard. "If they find out that you're trying to help me they might-… If my brother somehow-…!" He groaned again, aggression like a rumble of thunder in his throat. "Listen, just promise me you won't go poking around!"

Castiel fisted his hands by his sides, gritting his teeth. He wanted him to promise? Wanted him to stay idle and just watch as the company he worked for, who he helped _run_, did this? Never. Never, he couldn't. He _wouldn't_!

"Promise me!"

"I promise…"

Somewhere behind the wall Tiger let out a deep breath and it took all of Castiel's willpower not to drive his fist into the wall. Why was this happening? Why now? Why _them_?

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled. "If it's of any consolation I believe that you're innocent."

Tiger snorted out a laugh, but it was as far away from joyous as any sound could ever be.

"Thanks." He sighed. "I mean, it doesn't help, but… thanks."

They fell silent, and Castiel's heart began to race and his body shook and shivered under the water; the meaning of what he had just ben told slowly starting to sink in…

Tiger was leaving. This was it, this right here. He slid lower, legs giving out from beneath him and he somehow ended up sitting on the floor, his back leaning heavy against the cold tiles and a strong sense of nausea coming on.

"When are you leaving?" he asked, voice numb, his lips barely willing to form the words, bracing himself for the answer.

"They made me clear out my locker and hand in my keycard today. When I leave tonight, I'm not coming back."

"Oh…"

He didn't know what to say. His mind was blank, completely whited out and he had no words, nothing at all. It was so insane, so surreal… like a nightmare. This had to be a nightmare, of course it was. Because fate could not be this cruel… it couldn't be…

Only it was. Cruel and heartless, an ice queen that marched through time and ripping asunder everything that came in her way without even the slightest remorse or conscience. He knew this. He had met her far more times than he would have liked. Seeing her again right now was almost anticipated, like a cruel joke that had been played out on him so many times he could feel the rhythm of it unfold in the air around him as the moment for the devastating blow drew even nearer.

He heard Tiger shift behind him and the heavy lump that had been steadily forming in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. He wanted to tell Tiger that it would be alright, that he would find another job; that things would work out for him, but he couldn't, unable to find the words. He wanted to assure him that he would go talk with human resources first thing on Monday, get this mess straightened out because clearly there was foul play in the happening, but he couldn't, because he had just promised not to. He wanted to stand up, walk around this infuriating wall of white squares that separated them and pull the other man into his arms, but he didn't, couldn't, far too scared and far too much of a coward to act upon his own urges.

So instead he just sat there, listening as the other breathed, studying the sound of slow, steady intakes of air and storing it away deep inside his own mind because he knew that this might just be the last time he got to hear them.

His insides were in turmoil, anxiety, fear, sadness, disappointment, anger; tumbling around one another in one big, godforsaken mess, his head howling and screaming of how it wasn't _fair_! After all this time, after all the things they'd done Tiger was going to be ripped away from him because of some stupid _rumor_? After all the moments they had shared, not just the sexual, but the other, far more intimate ones where they opened up and spilled everything from their darkest fears to their hopes and dreams; after all that it was going to end like _this_?

He wants to tell Tiger to stay, to give him his number, to ask him out on a proper date with cheeseburgers, old movies and promises of much sweeter things than a simple kiss on the lips at the end of the night, but he's too afraid, too _terrified_ because this was just supposed to be _sex_. This was supposed to be a fun thing, nothing serious, nothing to work on; it was just supposed to _be_! And yet here he was, and the realization hit him like a truckload of bricks when he finally understood what he was really doing here, why he had continued to show up at this place at this time for nearly half a year and still he couldn't bring a single sound to cross his lips, even now as it all was about to get torn out of his hands.

So he sits there and he listens to the sound of Tiger breathing; for an eternity, or for a second, he does not know, and he does nothing to stop him when he eventually gets up. He doesn't say anything when the voice he had come to rely upon to function mumbles a throaty farewell, ignoring the flash of pain that goes through him when Tiger cut's himself off, as if he wants to say something more but ends up walking away instead, footsteps echoing, hollow, hollow steps towards the door, further and further away. Hinges creaks and screeches, as if in pain, and when the door to the shower closes behind him; when the last din of the thick barrier's thunderous bang finally rings out, something Castiel wasn't even aware of existed breaks and crumbles to pieces inside his chest.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

That weekend, Castiel spends curled up on the couch. He doesn't talk, doesn't eat, doesn't move. He won't even watch TV unless Gabriel puts it on for him, but even then he doesn't see it, does not register the images that swap places on the screen, indifferent to their messages of dental hygiene, newborn babies and breaking news. Of course he ate when Gabriel finally snapped and threatened to force the food down his throat with a funnel, but he did so with the enthusiasm of a rock. He slept when the lights turned off and he woke when he was unable to sleep any longer, everything blurring together in a grey haze that held no meaning or flavor. His brother was worried, he knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It should be painful to watch Gabriel play out his entire register, to switch between every single role as a brother that he knew in order to cheer him up and in the end just to get a reaction of some kind; going from teasing to concerned and then on to angry before finally settling for quiet, waiting.

Even Bingo seemed to understand that something was off because he stopped sleeping in his little basket by Gabriel's door and instead began to curl up next to Castiel's feet on the sofa at night. Castiel was rather indifferent to the gesture, the extra warmth welcomed, but not needed and he didn't have the energy to even bother with the fact that the dog was not allowed on the couch.

He had been so stupid. Stupid for believing that the strictly non-physical relation he had begun with the stranger in the shower would never become something more than just that. For believing that this man; this perverted, rude, condescending man would somehow become his to keep for himself, to hold, touch and love, someday, somehow. Stupid for believing that he would be able to go all the way, take the final leap and reach around that infuriating tiled wall, claiming that which he wanted for himself.

But he was a coward and had always been. A sappy, romantic coward and he had missed his chance, his _last_ chance and now Tiger was gone, lost to the vast ocean of people that existed in the world that Castiel did not know, just another faceless stranger on the street. He had become anyone, but at the same time he was now no one, a figment of his imagination, dreamed up to taunt him, to ridicule the fact that he would spend the rest of his life yearning for a voice that wasn't there, the fact that no matter what relations he would initiate there would always be another name catching in the back of his throat, forever crying out from the dark corners of his mind where you put things you wanted to forget about but couldn't let go of.

This was the future that awaited him, the fate he would have to endure for days and days. He could not be certain that Tiger would share these emotions, wherever he was, but that was a topic he did not want to linger on. Tiger might feel nothing but annoyance that he now had to find something else to pass his Friday nights with, a replacement for Castiel's voice and presence. Tiger would move on, find someone else and that person would be braver than Castiel, wouldn't hesitate or hold back. Tiger would be happy, and even if Castiel would never be there to take part of his bliss, the notion of it would be enough to keep him going, to enable him to one day let go and be at peace with his own pathetic failure.

But not today, not here and not now. Here he was heartbroken. Right now he was prepared to stay on his brother's couch until he was no longer recognizable as a human being and the coroners came to place his lifeless body in a black, plastic bag.

Today, he just wanted to die.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

The pipes in his apartment were declared ready for use the very next Thursday, and so it came to be that the first Friday since that devastating night a week before, Castiel spent on his own in an apartment were the air was stale and dusty from lack of use. It struck him that he had not slept in his own bed for almost five months now, almost half a year. Where had the time gone?

_Down the drain in a shower stall…_

His jaw clenched and his hand closed into a fist by his side. He had to let it go. He had forfeited his chance, all that was left for him now was to shake it off and move on. There was nothing to be done.

But things just weren't the same any more and after all, how could they possibly be?

Every day drifted by in a melancholy haze. He would wake up and leave for work and before he knew it he was back home, barely able to remember what he had done for the last nineteen hours, falling to sleep with a heavy sigh and a lump in his chest that weighed him down into the mattress as were it made of quicksand.

Becky was aware that something was off; she tiptoed around his office, knocked quietly on the door and politely waited for him to answer… One time she actually made a curtsy closing the door as if he was some sort of royalty and that had him taken aback to such an extent that he somehow managed to pull himself together enough to force forth a smile at her the next time they spoke. He did not want Becky to worry about him; his brother was more than capable of handling that department on his own. Walking the halls of this building was enough of a reminder of the things he had lost; he did not need the pitying glances from his secretary on top of that.

The days went on. The smiles came easier, became more genuine, but they were still not the right kind of smiles, never held the same joy. He invited Gabriel for dinner as thanks for the hospitality he had shown him and he made his hazel eyed kin a full batch of chocolate pudding for desert which his brother almost managed to devour all on his own.

After dinner they sat down in Castiel's big sofa with a beer each and Castiel turned on the TV, almost feeling a bit stupid when he had trouble remembering which remote that worked which apparatus.

Tiger's voice came drifting back through his memory, a ghost from the past that made his heart ache.

"_I have a geek brother who could help you out with that. They guy's a genuine hacker, he could take over the entire NASA facility with nothing but a Gameboy and a 25k-connection."_

"You're doing it again."

Castiel abruptly ripped his thoughts back to reality at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Doing what?" he mumbled, setting the remote back down on the glass coffee-table in front of him.

"The puppy-eye thing."

"The what?"

"You know, when your jaw sets and you get that hurting look like you're just about ready to jump out the window." Gabriel leaned back against the armrest. "Why is that?" he asked, sipping at his beer.

Castiel tried to glare at him. This wasn't the first time Gabriel had asked and he still didn't want to talk about it, but when Gabriel's left eyebrow shot up in a 'don't-you-dare'-kind of way he sighed, slumping down.

"It's nothing" he muttered and Gabriel snorted.

"Cassie, 'nothing' doesn't make you look like _that_ and you've been practicing that face for almost two weeks now. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

"I'm not stupid, little brother. I had to threaten you last week just to make you take a shower and god knows I've never had to do that before. So why don't you just spill the beans right now and save us both the trouble of me forcing it out of you?"

"There's no point in talking about it." Castiel grumbled, ignoring the threat. "It's over now anyway…"

"Over?" Gabriel's brow furrowed with confusion for a second before letting up again. "Ohhh… so this is about a guy?"

Castiel answered by taking a large gulp from his bottle and Gabriel leaned closer, seemingly trying to decipher the other's silence.

"You met someone." He finally concluded and Castiel put the bottle down next to the remote.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter. It's over."

"Why? What happened?"

Castiel stared at the TV. He could lie, make up some stupid, cliché story, but that wouldn't be fair to Gabriel. He might have done a damn good job trying not to act like it, but the truth was that his brother had been worried sick over him; the little tell-tale gestures of bringing home his favorite food and keeping the volume of the TV low while he stayed with him making that evidently clear. Hell, Gabe had even stopped drinking milk out of the carton just to make him happy. Gabriel had never been one for emotionally grand gestures, but Castiel could see the concern in his brother's behavior as clearly as had he ben holding up a flashing neon sign. It would not be fair to lie to him after all that. Besides, Gabriel would know that he wasn't telling the truth and the whole thing between him and Tiger belonged in the past now anyways. There was no need to hide it anymore…

"He got fired." He revealed silently, still without taking his eyes off the screen. There was a cooking show on and what looked like an aspiring kitchen assistant had just burnt an entire batch of kale and was now getting an earful from the head chef.

Gabriel's eyes widened.

"Fired?" he asked, almost sounding impressed, though Castiel did not understand why.

"Yes, fired." He repeated and Gabriel's eyebrows shot up.

"You were dating a guy from work? When?"

"Up until last week; every Friday."

"Wow, how spontaneous."

Castiel glared at him and Gabriel immediately retreated, sensing that now was not a good time to get quirky about stuff.

"So… did he get fired because the two of you were…" he made a very suggestive motion with his hands and Castiel shook his head.

"No, no one knew about us, and we didn't do _that_." he added with a disgusted face.

Gabriel leaned back into the couch, looking confused. It was an unusual expression for him but Castiel would say that it suited him well.

"Was it serious?" he asked eventually and Castiel sighed.

"No. Or… I don't think it was."

Gabriel's eyes trailed over the gloomy expression on his brother's face.

"But you wanted it to be, didn't you?"

"Look," Castiel snapped, "It's complicated and I would prefer if I didn't have to talk about it."

Gabriel threw his arms out and shrugged.

"Fine, suit yourself. I just think that if that's the case then you should be out there chasing him down instead of sulking here on the couch with me."

"He's not some kind of wild animal, Gabe." The younger male muttered. "And besides, even if I wanted to talk to him I can't."

"Now you're just being stupid; of course you can."

"I don't even know where to find him." Castiel objected sourly.

"Who says you have to find him? Call him up, ask him to come over; you know, the usual drill."

"I can't." Castiel insisted and Gabriel rolled his eyes to the ceiling with a huff.

"You're such a coward!" he wailed, digging up his own cellphone from his pocket and handing it out to his brother. "C'mon just call him!" he urged, but Castiel resolutely pushed the outstretched device away.

"I told you, I _can't_!" Cas growled and Gabriel shoved the phone back into his face.

"Why the heck not?!"

"Because I don't know who he is, okay!"

Gabriel flinched when Cas yelled at him, but then he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and took a deep breath.

"Alright, back up a second… First you're telling me that you've been dating this guy for how long?"

He looked at Castiel for an answer, waiting patiently and after a while his brother's glare faltered and Cas grumbled out 'four months' into his beer bottle.

"Four mon-… Four _months_?" A sharp look from the other made him abandon the subject with a discreet clearing of his throat and instead he continued; "Alright, so you've dated for four months… but for some reason you're here telling me that you don't even know who he is?"

Castiel's lips pinched, teeth working and pulling patches of dry skin from the lower half.

"Caaas…?" Gabriel pressed on.

"I haven't…" Castiel bit himself off, feeling Gabriel's eyes drill into the side off his face. On the TV the head chef had ordered the assistant out of the kitchen and instead there was another person in his place. A girl this time.

"I have never actually seen him."

Gabriel blinked, but then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Is this one of those internet-dating things?" he asked. "Because you know how those weird me out."

"It's not an internet thing." Castiel sighed. "It's just that we have never… _looked_ at each other."

Gabriel was dumbstruck.

"What?" he chuckled. "You're kidding me right?"

The look Castiel sent his older brother could have frozen a minor sun and Gabriel's amused smile faltered slowly, concluding that, no, Castiel really didn't look like he was.

"Okay…" he cleared his throat, looking away. "So it's not internet-dating; you don't know what he looks like; you don't have his number, you don't know his name… How the hell did you even _meet_ this guy?"

"We met in the shower room."

"Come again?"

"The shower room. At work." Castiel brought his bottle of beer up to his lips, but changed his mind and lowered it again. "We started… talking…. And things just… I don't even know how it happened. Point is, the only thing I've ever seen of him is an orange towel, other from that he's just a voice."

Gabriel nodded, looking as if he was trying to figure out a very hard mathematical equation.

"Okay, so you talked. But how the hell did talking evolve into a romantic relationship? Does he feel the same way about you?"

"I don't know."

"There had to be something. You said it was over – it can't be over unless it actually started. So how did it start?"

Castiel suddenly blushed, fiddling with the bottle in his hand and when he turned his head away Gabriel looked like someone had smacked him in the head with a bag of bricks, staring at his younger brother in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that!" Castiel snapped, growing even redder. "It's not like I've done anything wrong."

"No, not wrong, but _weird_!" Gabriel gaped. "I mean, had it been me then fine, but this is _you _we're talking about! Shit…" he tossed back a deep gulp of beer. "Getting your freak on in a public shower… that's more than just a little bit kinky, bro. And without knowing what the other looks like? I mean, how the hell did you even find out he was into other gu-…?"

Suddenly the hazel in Gabriel's eyes seemed to light up, the bright brown glistening in a glowing, golden tone.

"Wait a minute…" He pointed a finger at his brother, revelations slowly taking form in his head. "Wait a minute, are you saying…? You went and got yourself all head over heels over _him_?! The-"

"Gabriel!" Castel warned.

"… _pervert_?!"

Gabe was almost bouncing on his seat now, searching for the words, but unable to find then. "_Him_?!" he squawked again.

"I didn't exactly plan for it to happen!" Castiel snapped and for a moment Gabriel's grin grew even wider before it faded into a look of suspicion.

"Since when do you date without the intention of falling in love?" he asked and then his head tilted and his brows drew together in a mix of both concern and dread. "Oh man, do I even want to hear this?"

"What? As if you've never had a fling before."

"Dude." Gabriel held up his right hand, thumb folded into the palm. "_Four. Fricking_._ Months_."

Castiel swatted the hand away with an indignant huff.

"So what?" he snapped and Gabriel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"A random fling doesn't even last for _one_ month!" he clarified. "If it's just a fling then you get bored after a week. What the hell did you do to pass the time? No wait; don't tell me, I don't really want to know."

Castiel glared as he watched his brother take another swig from his beer bottle.

"Like I said, it wasn't supposed to get serious. But it did, and now he's gone. I screwed up because I was too much of a coward to ask him out properly. So there you have it, now can we please talk about something else?"

"Oh no, hold on a minute." Gabriel put his bottle down hand held up his hand as if he was expecting Castiel to get up from the couch and run away from him. "There has to be some way for you to get hold of him. Human resources must have his number, or someone he worked with?"

Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Gabriel, I don't even have a _name_. And there's been so many people getting fired lately that asking wouldn't do me any good."

"Then what do you have?"

Castiel thought for a moment.

"Well… there's his car… he loves his car. And he has a brother that works there too, but I don't know where. He likes old movies, classic rock music and… pie."

Gabriel looked at him skeptically.

"So, except for the brother part that basically sums up half of the male population then?"

"I told you, it's a waste of time."

"It's not a waste if you actually _find_ him. Try talking to people; a guy who loves his car _talks_ about his car so someone's bound to have overheard something."

"And if I by some miraculous way manage to find him, then what?" Castiel glared at the bottle in his hands. "Seek him out? Corner him on the street and just tell him who I am and expect everything to be fine? Last time I checked stalking wasn't exactly that kindly viewed, Gabe…"

"You're not stalking." Gabriel corrected with a reprimanding finger. "You're searching; there's a difference." Castiel shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. I should just forget about him."

His brother winced, falling back against the backrest of the sofa with a tormented expression on his face.

"Aw c'mon, Cas, don't be that way."

"I'm serious, Gabe. It's not worth it."

"Don't say that, bro." Gabriel looked at him and tilted his head. "Fuck, you're the one who's always believed in the whole soulmatey-eternal-love-at-first-sight crap. Hearing that from you… It breaks my heart, you know."

Castiel dragged a tired hand across his face.

"Gabe please, don't..." he pleaded, and Gabriel scowled.

"Don't what?"

"Just… drop it, okay?"

Gabriel looked at his brother, for a moment seemingly torn between his concern and the injured look in his brother's eyes and then he shrugged.

"Fine. Consider it dropped." He nudged the remote with the tip of his foot. "Now turn this shit program off, there's football on the other channel."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was Tuesday night. Tuesday night's pizza night, and for once they were able to spend it at Gabriel's place now that Castiel moved back home. Gabriel loved his brother, of course he did, but he wasn't going to deny the fact that having his apartment back was more than just a little relief.

He and Sam were sitting on the couch, one big pizza taking up almost the entire coffee table in front of them. They always ordered family sized pizza. Gabriel of course had mastered the arts of consuming large amounts of food early in his teenage years, but Sam… Sam didn't _consume_ food; he_ devoured_ it! Gabriel had never seen someone eat like that and at the same time make it look so effortless. It was almost erotically ridiculous.

The giant next to him was busy licking some of the topping off his fingers when he suddenly looked up, finding Gabriel smirking back at him.

"Stop looking at me like that." He mumbled and the corner of Gabriel's mouth twitched dangerously.

"Why?" he drawled. "I like looking at you like this."

"There's a time and a place, Gabe." Sam scolded, but he smiled when he crammed the next slice of pizza into his mouth.

Gabriel leaned in with a leer, grabbing the other's thigh and massaging it firmly.

"I like 'now' and 'right here' better."

"You're such a slut." Sam pried the groping fingers away, but at the same time he suckled loudly on his index finger with his other hand, enjoying the way the other's eyes darkened at the sight.

"You like me when I'm a slut." Gabriel objected.

"True. But I want to eat, I'm starving."

Gabriel glanced skeptically at the now almost empty carton on the table and Sam shrugged.

"I didn't have breakfast."

"I see…" Gabriel reached out and gripped around the other's wrist as Sam reached for another piece of food. "… then I guess you wouldn't mind some dessert?" He brought the hand up and lazily licked up the length of the middle finger, hearing Sam's breath hitch before he pulled the digit away.

"Gabe, that's disgusting!" But his cheeks were already flushing and Gabe could see the way his pupils had widened.

"Disgustingly hot." Gabriel corrected, leaning in even further and trapping the taller man against the edge of the sofa.

"I'm still hungry." Sam pointed out, eyes darting to Gabriel's lips when the other crawled up to straddle his thighs.

"Don't worry…" Gabriel leaned down, closing the distance. "… I know just how to fix that."

Gabriel liked how Sam tasted, which at the moment was pepperoni pizza, but still even without the pizza it was his new, favorite treat. Sam didn't moan when their lips brushed together, instead he breathed in deeply through his nose, leaning back and letting his hands come up to rest against Gabriel's shoulders, not pushing, not pulling, just resting. It was slow, lazy and sloppy and Gabriel tried to fight the urge he had to simply pull the giant's clothes off right away. He dipped his hands underneath Sam's shirt, rubbing the taught skin next to the navel with his thumb and Sam's breath hitched again. Sam was capable of making the most delicious noises when they did stuff like this… Gabe had just finished mentally cataloguing all the various methods he could use to wring them out and he was determined to make use of every single one tonight.

His musing was interrupted however when something began rumbling next to his thigh and Sam broke away from their kiss with a wet pop. One large paw of a hand reached down and into a pair of jeans, bringing up a cell phone. Sam looked at the display, sighed and rolled his eyes at Gabriel.

"Saved by the bell." He muttered and flipped the phone open, bringing it to his ear. "Hey, what's up?"

There was a short, almost snappy response from the other side of the line and Sam scowled.

"Okay… Yeah…? No, I'm at Gabe's... Dude, it's Tuesday... _Tuesday_, I've told you-…"

Gabe raised an eyebrow at the male below him, slowly moving his hands up and down the frame of his torso underneath the buttoned shirt, relishing in the feel of warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips. Sam looked at him and smirked, biting his lip when two thumbs came up to slowly roll against a pair of nipples.

"Yeah…" he managed into the phone, eyes closing. "Yeah, alright… No, that's fine… Bobby knows where it is, he can-… Right… Alright, see you tomorrow."

He flipped the phone shut again and tossed it to the side on the table with a sigh, leaning back against the headrest.

"Who was it?" Gabriel asked, scooting and leaning down to kiss softly at the newly exposed patch of Sam's stomach.

"Dean." Sam muttered. "He was looking for something in Bobby's workshop. He's trying to fix up his car."

"He sounded upset." Gabriel fluttered a new kiss just below the ribs and Sam shivered.

"Yeah… he's been having a rough time lately… got fired from his job two weeks ago."

"Oh." Gabriel stopped and gave his boyfriend an apologizing look. "Sorry to hear that."

Sam waved his hand dismissively.

"It's fine, he'll cope. I just wished he'd stop beating himself up about it. He spends all his time in the garage and barely talks to anyone except for..." he gestured to the phone and Gabriel nodded. "I mean, I get him, they didn't even give him a chance to defend himself; they just fired him. After all his hard work and they just threw him away. You know he used to stay behind and work late every Friday?"

"Sounds like a dedicated man…" Gabriel drawled, returning to the task of pushing the other's shirt up even higher.

"He is. I just wish…" Sam swallowed, eyes hazily watching Gabriel's tongue swipe a wet pattern from his abs all the way up to a nearly exposed nipple, hands coming down to settle firmly over his hips. "…I-I just wish he'd stop obsessing over it. Like, how fantastic can a company shower room be, really?"

Gabriel froze momentarily.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Yeah. He won't shut up about the damn thing." He wiggled his hips a little to make the other resume what he was doing and Gabriel circled his thumb over his hipbone in reassurance while a slowly growing suspicion dragged itself through his mind. They had never really talked about Sam's brother; which could be considered a bit weird since they had been together now for almost half a year, but the subject had never surfaced until now. He quickly scanned his brain for mentions of this Dean, carding through his memories in heartbreaking speed, trying to remember what he knew about the man so far. The results were… encouraging.

"Where did you say he worked again?" he asked, returning to his ministrations of his boyfriend's chest.

"Edenstar, same as me." Sammy's eyes fluttered close. "You know… the big company on the other side of town?"

"I see…" Gabriel's tongue and lips moved lazily over Sam's body, but in his head the thoughts were spinning madly. It could be a coincidence, but… seriously…?

"You said he worked late Fridays?" he asked and Sam hummed in response, loosing himself in the sensation of the other's mouth.

"Mm-hm…"

"As in every Friday?"

"More or less…" The taller man sucked in breath when teeth nipped at his skin and a hand came down to rest on Gabriel's head.

"Did he shower every Friday too?" Sam lifted his head from the headrest and gave him a weird look.

"I suppose… He was a mechanic so he's bound to get dirty. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just making conversation."

Sam suppressed a new shudder when Gabriel's thumb drifted south and began toying with the hem of his jeans.

"That's nice and all, Gabe but… could we please not talk about my brother right now?"

Gabriel shrugged, but kept quiet and proceeded with popping the top button of his boyfriend's jeans.

As he pulled down the zipper he contemplated on whether he should mention any of this to his own brother, but he decided not to. There was no reason to get Cassie's hopes up until he was absolutely sure. So instead he stowed this potentially valuable piece of information away in the back of his head, making room for the at the moment much more important thought of how he was going to make Sam do that thing with his face and voice that he had last time, only louder and more desperate...

"Gabe…" Sam's back arched when Gabriel's hand silently slid underneath the waistband of his boxers and Gabriel leaned down, trailing kisses all the way from his hip to his neck as he stroked him slowly.

"I'm right here, kiddo." He placed his free hand over the thunder of Sam's heartbeat, feeling the other shudder once more. "I've got you…"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_Wow, you guys still here? I'm impressed._

_Let me know if you've found any grammar or spelling mistakes; at the moment I wouldn't be able to spot them even if they were all highlighted and marked with blinking disco lights, so I appreciate every little piece of help I can get. =s_


	7. Chapter 7

**So... you guys ready for this now? ;)**

* * *

Sam's eyes flicker across the screen, studying it with the intensity of a lion stalking its prey while his fingers danced over the keyboard. His enemy had been good so far; almost too good, but Sam knows that it's just a matter of time before this adversary will make a fatal mistake; a slip up of minor proportions maybe, but fully adequate for Sam to take advantage of. Confidence had begun to skirt the edges of the other's actions; glowing through in the movements he made, in the increased speed of which he had begun to execute his so far rational advancements. Sam of course had already planned his steps with the most outright precision, laid out his strategies with carefully monitored checkpoints of which there now only remained one. All he had to do was wait, wait for that precise moment, the split second and then he'd go in for the kill, any moment now…

The trap slammed shut like a vice around his adversary and Sam raised both hands over his head, giving a triumphant shout while another, far more displeased one was heard from the other side of the cubicle he was in.

"Seriously, Winchester!? A fucking _Trojan_?!"

Sam chuckled and stood up, leaning forwards to look over the dividing wall that separated the two work spaces and gave his coworker an indifferent shrug.

"You have to step up your game, Ash."

Ash glowered at him from his chair, long hair flowing down over the ripped off sleeves of his shirt in unruly tussles, and he gave his own desk a shallow kick before he settled back with a frustrated sigh, defeated eyes locking on to the glaring message that was blinking on his screen.

"It's going to take for-fucking-ever to sort this shit out…" he grumbled and Sam laughed again.

"Guess you better get going then." He offered, getting a flipped up finger in return.

"Fuck you, Sam."

"You too, Ash."

He flopped back into his chair, grinning like a loon. He had been waiting to do that for over three weeks now, and victory was indeed sweet. Ash would forgive him, eventually.

The two of them had hit it off the moment Ash set foot at Edenstar, their common interests in programming soon taking a turn down the more freelancing route. Hacking into each other's computers had soon become a ritual for them that had quickly escalated from leaving little things like fucked up shortcuts on the desktop to much more serious methods to throw the other off. Ash was good, horribly, horribly good and a complete genius when it came to the arts of programming, but sometimes his brain worked a bit too fast and he made mistakes, like in this case; forgetting to lock the backdoor. Sam on the other hand was not as fast, but he would like to consider himself much sneakier. He had planted the Trojan virus over a month ago, having first made several faked attempts to hack into Ash's computer just to study the other's MO, mapping out his rhythm and learning the steps to the complicated dance that was Ash's alone. Once he knew that it was a minor feat to steer his rival through the many crossroads that would eventually lead him to that single combination of programming code that would set the Trojan off, and the best part would be that Ash did it all out of his own free will; with _intent_ and that what's made this victory so blissfully good.

He choked back another laugh when he heard Ash curse loudly, apparently finding out that his usual way of removing viruses only triggered the second course of action in the Trojan Sam had left behind. Oh, this would probably come back to bite him in the ass later, but fuck if it wasn't worth it. He would let Ash keep himself busy for a few hours and then he'd give him the code that self-destructed the virus; for friendship's sake, but for now he was fully content with listening to the other getting his sailor-mouth on.

He was about to shoot another snarky comment over the wall when the door to the office opened and Uriel stepped in. In an instant the sounds around them lowered into a whisper, people stopped talking and the only noise heard was the collected humming chorus of the several computers that were running in the wide space of the office floor.

The suit clad man strode through the lines off cubicles without as much as a look at the people at his sides, the taut expression of superiority clear and condescending on his face. He reached the door leading to Human Resources at the end of the room, walked through it and disappeared out of sight.

"I hate that fucking guy." Ash snarled from his cubicle before the door had even closed properly.

"He doesn't look too friendly." Sam agreed.

"Dude's got such a massive stick up his ass you could use him for a Christmas tree."

Sam chuckled, opening his mouth to say something back but then the door opened and Uriel emerged once more; a big paper portfolio tucked safely under his arm and he strolled back to the door of which he had entered, wearing a smile that simply looked _too_ pleased and then he walked out without a word. The entire room seemed to let out a deep breath of relief when the doors closed behind him and seconds later Ash's head popped up over the edge of Sam's stall.

"Dude, you saw that?" he hissed.

"Yeah." Sam looked at the door through which Uriel had disappeared.

"That's the fourth folder in two months now." Ash pointed out, "You think there's going to be more cutbacks?"

"I don't know. Maybe..." Sam cut himself off, mind immediately going to his brother. More cutbacks… was there even more people to cut back from?

Ash's eyes softened a little, as if he could tell what the other was thinking by looking at his face.

"How's Dean holding up by the way?" he asked and Sam shrugged, turning back to his screen.

"Coping." He sighed and added; "In his own way."

"Crashing and burning huh?"

"Something like that."

Ash shot a look over his shoulder and then he hung down deeper over the separating screen, lowering his voice into a whisper.

"You know… I talked to Jo yesterday." He confided conspiringly.

Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"Wow, she talked to you? I thought she said she wanted to claw your eyes out?"

Ash grimaced.

"We had an uncomfortable discussion about pliers," he admitted but then he turned serious once more. "She told me stuff." He said. "Stuff I think you might be interested in."

"What stuff?" Sam scowled.

"Check this out…"

Ash's head disappeared only to reappear on Sam's side of the wall when the lanky male slid in front of Sam's computer.

"Jo told me they've assigned someone extra down at archives; new guy named Garth. Wet behind the ears still, but eager to work. Dumb as a post."

Sam snorted out a laugh. Ash didn't exactly dress his words, but Sam knew that the expression "dumb" in Ash's world also included more than ninety percent of the earth's population, some days even Sam himself. Ash might be a genius, but he certainly wasn't a people person.

"Anyway," Ash continued, switching between tabs and windows at the screen in a blur of colors. "This guy's job is to "sort" the employees' files, and there's nothing wrong with that, but get this…"

On the screen a message popped up, blinking in angry red, which Ash quickly closed with a few well chosen presses on the keyboard and instead a new window appeared displaying folders listed neatly in a long row.

"…they're sorting them according to pay grade."

Sam looked at the screen.

"Pay grade?" he asked, confused. "But I thought the system was built department-wise?"

"Bingo. But that's not the only thing."

He quickly opened up another tab, entered a few strings of code and another window popped up; this time showing the list of employees as they were supposed to be shown.

"This is what it looks like to the people at Human Resources."

"They're different." Sam concluded after a quick glance. "Why put in the effort to sort them if nobody can see it?"

"Because this…" Ash gestured to the list and then switched back to the new, sorted window, "…and this, are not related. The people at HR doesn't see this, they don't even know it's happening. The whole thing is a cover-up."

"A cover for what?"

Ash shrugged.

"Don't know. No one seems to know shit all about it."

"Then how come Jo knew?" Sam narrowed his eyes and the corner of Ash's mouth quirked.

"She bumped into this Garth fellow in the cafeteria last week. He asked her what he should do with the folders requested by Uriel now that he was out on a business trip and she got curious. Turns out the poor sap doesn't even know his job is a fake. He thinks he's doing great."

"Did Jo tell him the truth?"

"I think she was busy trying to get him to talk. Garth had been told to keep the job low profile and you know how Jo goes all threats when she thinks people are hiding stuff from her."

Sam whistled lowly.

"Did he survive?"

"Are you kidding?" Ash snorted, "The dude's practically in love with her. One would think the prospects of castration would have the opposite effect on a dude…"

Sam laughed out loud. Looked like Jo had bitten of a bit more than she could chew this time.

"Anyway…" Ash continued sourly. "Turns out every now and then Uriel sends Garth a request for random folders within a specific pay grade which Garth puts together in a portfolio and gives to the people in there." He nodded towards the HR office door. "Mr. Stick-up-his-ass picks it up and after a few days the portfolio comes back and listen to this; some of the folders are missing."

Sam looked at him, waiting for his coworker to continue.

"What happens to the missing folders I don't know, but they never make it back to archives. So I made a little research of my own and turns out that all the people who's been fired lately have been put in that portfolio at least at one point. Your brother too."

Sam's eyes widened and Ash nodded, lowering his voice.

"They're picking us off the shelves, one by one, and they're doing it based on how much we _earn_. In the beginning they only took people on minimum wage, but they're climbing. Dean was one of the first to go from the higher positions, soon they'll be snapping at our heels up here as well."

"On who's orders?" Sam was confused, "Uriel isn't in a position to fire anyone."

"According to the system all the termination papers were signed by Zachariah."

"Zachariah?" Sam scowled. Normally when people got fired the papers got signed by Ellen. For a big player like Zachariah to get involved at such a personal level wasn't just unusual – it was weird.

Sam looked at his computer screen and then resolutely shoved his chair closer to the desk, opening up a new window. Ash leaned in closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.

"What are you doing?"

"Something I probably shouldn't."

Ash eyes widened when he saw the flashed line of code Sam punched into the keyboard.

"You're hacking the mainframe?!" he hissed, but then his face cracked open in a smile. "Cool."

"I knew something wasn't right." Sam growled, fingers working faster. "I knew it."

"You'll never get pass lockdown." Ash pointed out.

"I can try."

"If they catch you there's gonna be hell to pay, you know."

"Then I guess I'll have to make sure they don't catch me." Sam smirked.

Sam's hands worked the keyboard faster, but Ash scowled, leaning over his shoulder.

"You're going too slow." He muttered and then he disappeared back inside his own cubicle.

"What are you doing?"

"Slowing the firewall down. Just give me a sec."

Suddenly there was a loud noise, followed by cheesy music accompanied by even louder grunts and very, very manly moans.

"For fuck sakes Sam!"

Sam grinned when the hard core, gay porn kept rolling on Ash's screen and he heard Ash let out an undignified squawk, finger rapping over keys I panic.

"Looks like you're gonna have to sit this one out, Ash."

"I hate you, Winchester!"

Sam's lips curled into a smug grin, but he quickly went back to concentrate on the screen. He would let the video play for another five minutes or so, just to prove a point, then he'd give Ash the code to turn it off. At the moment however it was for the better if Ash didn't have access to the system, Sam didn't want him to come crashing into this. For Ash it was about finding the answers and finding them fast so that he then could move on to do something else and finish that too, just as quickly. He was all about crashing doors and breaking walls, whatever method that worked the fastest and Sam did not intend to do this recklessly. He planned on sneaking in through the backdoor when no one was looking, and then he would be able to take as much time as he wanted, when he wanted. If this was as shady as Ash made it sound, then there was no telling what would happen should he get caught; losing his job might even be a blissful scenario… His brother would kill him if he knew what he was about to do, but at the moment Sam didn't care. If there had been any foul play involved in his brother's case then he was going to find out no matter how many rules and regulations he broke in the process. After all, he didn't get over a month's suspension from tech collage because he played by the rules…

He was interrupted by another rumbling moan from the other side of the cubicle and he could hear Ash gag a little at the screen.

"Oh-…! Oh god, that's just _disgusting_!"

"Jo says hi by the way." Sam smirked and on the other side of the cubicle Ash made a sound as if he was dying.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was just one of those days.

The coffee machine had gone berserk the moment he sat foot in the cafeteria, spraying scorching java all over his shirt and jacket and he thanked his lucky starts that he had gotten away without any significant damage; just a patch of angry red skin flaring over his chest and a matching set of soiled clothing. It wasn't that big of a disaster and the problem was easily fixed since he kept a spare set of clothes in his office in case of unsuspected business meetings, and Becky had been an angel and sent the dirty clothes to the drycleaners, so there was no real harm done. The relief was short lived however, because he returned after lunch only to find that his computer had riled into a complete tailspin during the hour he had been gone; his screen fizzling and distorted with more colors than a bad LSD-trip. He had spent over an hour waiting for the guys from tech support to come fix it, only to find that they couldn't and then he had to wait another hour until they found him a spare laptop to work with while they hauled his old one off to their workshop. The replacement laptop was slower than his normal one and it only added to his frustration that it for some reason kept disconnecting itself from the company network, leaving him cut off from the main server for almost ten minutes at a time, disrupting his work pace. His brother called him a pedantic OCD neat-freak manically obsessed on always being in control of things and maybe, just maybe there was something behind that statement because to be honest this day turned out to be a complete waste of time. He just wished he was back home in front of his TV or in his bed where he could just forget that the past fourteen hours ever happened.

Therefore he was not at all surprised when he came out to his car at about 8 PM, tired and completely strung out, only to be greeted by a wheezing choke when he turned the key to the ignition. He suspected that his head's impact with the steering wheel would leave a pretty nasty bruise on his forehead later, but at the moment he didn't have the energy to care.

"Perfect." He snarled, the famous last straw settling comfortably on the back of his already strained patience and breaking it with a loud snap. He got out of the car, slammed the door shut and whipped his phone out of his pocket, chewing on his bottom lip in poorly contained frustration as the dial tone rang in his ear far too long than he considered acceptable.

"Yellow!" Gabriel greeted cheerfully and Castiel had to remind himself that yelling at your siblings for sounding happy when you needed their help was not a very productive way to strike up a conversation.

"It's me." He grumbled. "Where are you?"

"At Sam's." Of course he was. Where else would he possibly be? Castiel was about to give a snarky response that without a doubt would turn out to be uncalled for when Gabriel chuckled in his ear. "What's wrong, bro? You sound pissed."

"My car broke down." Cas informed him sourly. "I'm stranded at the parking lot at work."

"Oh." His brother made it sound as if it was the most none-fascinating thing he had ever heard and once again Castiel had to remind himself not to say something very rude in return.

"I need to get back home and get the car to a workshop. How soon can you be here?" he rumbled and Gabe seemed to snap out of a momentary daze.

"Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Uh, hold on, give me sec..."

A muffled conversation began on the other side of the line, Gabriel's voice dropping to an apologetic tone only to rise seconds later as Sam's voice answered and then Gabe was back on the phone.

"Hey, where are you planning to fix your car?" he asked and Castiel scowled.

"At Adam's as usual. Why?"

"Well, Sammy here says we could take it to Dean's if you like? If you leave your keys with me, Sam and I'll haul the car off to the workshop tonight. You'll have it back again tomorrow afternoon."

"I don't know, Gabe…" Castiel was hesitant. He liked doing business with Adam; sure he was young, but he got the job done and he wasn't particularly expensive. He had no idea who this 'Dean' was, and the thought of leaving his car to some stranger just like that…

"C'mon Cassie!" Gabriel whined, the familiar mocking of his name making Castiel's eye twitch. "I've been there with my own car already. The guy's a genius! And who knows, if you bat your eyelashes at him you might even get a discount." he added with a smirk that Castiel could see even through the phone.

"I'm not going to flirt with your boyfriend's brother, Gabe." He muttered acidly to which he could hear his brother snicker.

"We'll see how firmly you stand by that once you see him. I'm telling you, if I'd met him first I'd have—_ow_! I'm just kidding!"

There was a low, teasing murmur that Castiel suspected originated from Sam and he cleared his throat, dragging back his brother's attention. Normally he could put up with these three-way conversations but at the moment he just wanted to get home. Gabriel could flirt with his Sasquatch of a boyfriend later.

"Alright, fine." He grumbled impatiently. "You just get here. Now."

He could see his brother's grin of approval as clearly as had he been standing right in front of him.

"In a snap, bro."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Your brother seemed pretty upset about his car." Sam said from the driver's seat.

"Yeah, apparently he's had a pretty rough day."

They were in Gabriel's car, driving down the main road heading south out of town. They had dropped Castiel off at his apartment already; the keys to his Honda safe in the pocket of Sam's jacket. Cas had not said much during the ride and even though Gabriel knew he had not meant to be rude he had been snappy in his responses and not appeared very keen on talking. Luckily Cas and Sam had met a few times before so he wasn't worried about Sam getting the impression that his brother was a complete asshole, but he sincerely hoped that Cas' foul mood would pass until it was time for them to collect his car…

"He gets all kinds of cranky when he's tired. Hope he wasn't being too rude?" He apologized.

"Don't worry." Sam laughed. "Compared to Dean he was like a fluffy, little kitten."

"That bad, huh?" he asked and Sam rolled his eyes with a huff.

"You have no idea. Did I tell you he threw a wrench at me the other day?"

Gabe gave an impressed little whistle.

"And this is the guy we're going to ask fix my brother's car?" he asked and Sam threw him a lewd smirk.

"You scared?"

"I'm not scared." Gabriel objected, "I just get uncomfortable when people throw hard and heavy things at me."

"Don't worry, I promise I'll protect you." Sam gave him a quick pat on the thigh in assurance and Gabriel snorted, disbelieving.

"Yeah, remind me of that when the tools starts flying."

Sam laughed at that, and as usual Gabriel couldn't help but to snicker. His moose had a smile that could brighten an entire concert hall and it was the most contagious thing Gabriel had ever come across since yawning.

"Why did you tell Cas that Dean had already fixed your car?" Sam asked suddenly. "You've never even met my brother."

"Because Cas would never have let me take the car otherwise. Dean will without doubt do the job better and faster than Adam ever could and considering the money my brother would have to spend on cab fair while Adam worked Cas will get off cheaper on this even if Dean charges extra for the trouble."

"There's no need to worry about the money," Sam assured him with another one of those dazzling smiles. "Dean enjoys getting his hands dirty and a new car will only do him good."

Gabriel shrugged.

"If you say so, Sugarcane."

Sam grimaced, sticking his tongue out.

"That has _got_ to be the worst nickname you've come up with so far." He announced and Gabriel snickered.

"That's what you said about 'Chocolate Moose' too." He pointed out and Sam visibly cringed in his seat.

"Alright, 'Chocolate Moose' was definitely worse." he agreed.

"Worse than 'Honey Bunny'?"

"No!" Sam objected, sounding as if he didn't know whether to laugh or cry about it. "Absolutely not worse than that."

"That's what I thought."

Sam shot him a dirty look from the corner of his eye.

"You know, if you call me any of those names in front of my brother I'm going to tie you to the bed when we get home and make you watch as I eat all your candy."

"That sounds astonishingly boring," Gabriel smirked. "I can think of so many other things to do."

"Oh, I bet you can. Perverted little freak." Sam added mockingly and Gabe threw his hands out in acted innocence.

"What? I'm just keeping an open mind." He defended himself.

Sam laughed, shaking his head.

"You're so fucked up." He declared, not without a light hint of endearment in his voice.

"Not at the moment," Gabriel pointed. "but maybe later..." he added suggestively, leaning back into his seat with a mischievous grin.

Sam didn't answer, but the look he sent the other's way spoke of indecently good things that may or may not come to involve Gabriel, handcuffs and various forms of sweets being eaten straight of his naked body. It was a look of promise that almost had Gabe regretting not having more candy at home.

Soon they spotted the dingy old sign marking out the dirt road to "Singer's Salvage" that lead them past a big field and a small patch of woods, and a few miles later they parked the car on the driveway to Bobby's house and got out. It wasn't the first time Gabriel had been here, but it never ceased to amaze him how one yard could contain such an incredible amount of junk. To him it proved that this Dean-kiddo must be very good at what he did because the appearance sure as hell didn't provide much to appeal to any costumers.

Bobby met them before they even made their way around back, drying off his hands on a piece of cloth that according to Gabriel probably only served to make the hands even dirtier, but Bobby didn't seem to mind. As always he had his cap on, along with that grumpy face of his that for some reason reminded Gabriel of an old bulldog. Just the thought of Bobby greeting a costumer in a fancy Mercedes or anyone that drove something more stylish than a tractor for that matter made him want to cringe. Once again; Sam's brother must be one hell of a mechanic!

Despite the frown on Bobby's face when he spotted them, Sam greeted the old man with a smile and a nod.

"Hi Bobby. How's it going?"

"Good, considering…" Bobby grumbled stuffing the dirty old rag into his back pocket and Sam's shoulders dropped with a sigh.

"We're is he?" he asked.

"Where'dya think." Bobby gestured with his head to the backside of the house and the muscles in Sam's jaw flexed.

"Still going at it, huh?"

"Are you kidding?" Bobby snorted. "He blew out an entire set this afternoon."

Gabriel gave Sam a quizzical look and Sam smiled awkwardly.

"Dean, uh, tends to break things when he's mad… Windows, preferably…"

"Oh…" Gabriel nodded, eyes widening slightly. Suddenly he wondered if this whole thing had been such a good idea. If Dean decided to throw a tantrum and smash Cas' car it would be Gabriel's head on the line since he recommended the bastard. How was he supposed to know the guy was in need of anger management?

He threw Bobby a quick glance and the old man rolled his eyes to the sky, sighing.

"If you plan on talking to him, be my guest. Just wait until he steps away from the crowbar before you bring up anything offensive."

"It's _Dean_, Bobby." Sam pointed, "I could bring up the _weather_ and he would find it offensive."

"You know what I mean. He's cranky, and I'm running low on door panels."

Sam nodded and gave Bobby an encouraging pat on the shoulder before heading around the corner of the house, Gabriel following behind him in silence. The sun was setting and there was a cold crisp in the air announcing that summer was as good as over, the rows of cars on the yard casting long shadows on the ground. There were lights on inside the old garage housing the workshop and as they came closer Gabriel could hear the static sound of an old radio blaring out rock'n'roll music from inside. The clanging sound of steel colliding with steel rung out in steady beats behind the door and Gabriel caught himself holding his breath when Sam swung the barrier open, revealing a man standing by a worker's bench in the process of straightening out a dint in a trunk lid with something that could only be described as the Hammer of fucking _Thor_ judging by the size of it. Gabriel recalled what Sam had said about the wrench earlier and carefully stepped behind his boyfriend when they entered, not caring that Sam would undoubtedly tease him about it later. He liked his face, and he wanted to keep it just the way it was.

Sam on the other hand didn't seem fazed at all by the huge tool in his brother's hands, striding up to him with the confidence of a lion tamer entering the cage. Dean's eyes flickered towards them when the motion of the newcomers caught his attention, but he didn't stop hammering or turn around, jaw setting in a disturbingly familiar way that made Gabriel want to grin widely. Oh, if this indeed turned out to be Castiel's mystery man then those two had a lot more in common than they were probably even aware of. He took in the muscular form of the man in front of them and he had to admit… if he was right about this, then his brother was one hell of a lucky bastard…

Sam had gone up to stand beside his brother, leaning against the table top while waiting for Dean to recognize his presence, but so far it didn't seem to go as planned.

"How's the work going?" he asked eventually and Gabriel could see Dean's shoulders tense all the way from where he was standing by the door.

"Fine." He bit back and if Sam noticed that the hammer smacked down against the metal a bit harder than before then he didn't show it, still looking as calm as ever.

"You sure?"

Gabriel watched as those eyes, green he noticed, went up to glare at Sam's face before returning to the task at hand.

"What do you want Sam?"

Sam turned to look at Gabe, gesturing for him to come closer, but Gabriel shrugged and shook his head firmly. For a moment he thought Sam would turn around and drag him over, but instead he just rolled his eyes to the ceiling as if he was dealing with a defiant child before returning his attention to his brother.

"Gabe's brother got into some car trouble." He said calmly. "I thought maybe you could take a look at it?"

"I'm kind of busy right now."

The hammer collided with steel one more time and Gabriel suppressed the urge to flinch. Sam smiled, almost sweetly and he recognized that smile. It was the 'I want this and you're going to help me whether you like it or not'-smile.

"C'mon Dean." He pleaded. "It won't take long. We'll even tow the thing here ourselves, you just have to take a look at it. A few hours work, tops."

Dean threw the Hammer of Judgment to the side on the table and leaned down to study the surface of the newly abused trunk.

"Sorry, I've got my own car to fix." He muttered and Sam rolled his eyes again.

"Dean, you fixed your car a week ago." He pointed out. "Then you stripped her down and started all over again."

"So?" Dean countered defiantly and Sam sighed.

"So, we've been over this. Fixing you car won't make you feel better."

"Fascinating conclusion. Now if you excuse me…"

Dean turned around, almost hitting his brother in the head when he raised the large panel and slammed it on top of the gaping trunk, moving over to fit it against the hinges.

"Dean…" Sam followed to stand on the other side of the car and grabbed hold of the panel, lowering his voice as he sought eye contact with his older brother across the span of the trunk. "You can't go on like this."

Dean's eyes hardened and his fingers twitched against the metal.

"Let go, Sam." He ordered, but Sam shook his head.

"No, listen to me. How long has it been? Three weeks? Four? You don't talk to anyone except when you yell at them and you haven't been outside this place in days."

Dean closed his eyes and pulled in breath through gritted teeth.

"Sam, I'm really not in the mood for this." He hissed, but Sam was relentless.

"You're _never_ in the mood for this Dean. Just look at you! Something's wrong, I can tell, and maybe whatever it is gives you a perfectly good reason to be pissed, but what I don't understand is why you're so reluctant to talk about it? You're scaring me here, dude…"

Dean glared up at him and for a moment Gabriel thought he saw something else flicker behind the rage in those eyes, but it only lasted for a second, then Dean shoved the panel hard against his brother's chest, walking around the car and disappearing behind the hood, trunk lid forgotten.

"Dean…" Sam started, but Dean interrupted him, voice echoing harsh and hollow from within the vehicle.

"Tell Gabe's brother that he will have to find someone else to fix his car." He grumbled, but Sam shook his head.

"No, I won't. You _need_ this, Dean, you need to _focus_. Bobby says you've been breaking stuff again, I thought you were passed that by now?"

"Back off, Sam."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?! We both know that hiding in a grease pit is not going to make things better!"

"I said _back off_, Sam."

"Dean, it was just a _job_!"

"God damnit, Sammy!"

The hood slammed shut so hard the entire car shook, but Sam didn't even twitch. Dean was glaring daggers at him, nostrils flaring dangerously and with shoulders drawn together so tight the muscles in his arms were trembling.

It was like watching a wounded animal trying to escape a hunter. Sam was doing something with his face that Gabriel had never seen before; stern and unyielding but with eyes that looked as if they were going to spill over with tears at any given second. Gabriel was certain that had he been on the receiving end of that look he would have dropped like a stone within the span of two breaths. How Dean could keep glaring like that was completely beyond him.

The two brothers stared at each other, the silence only disturbed by the distorted sound from the radio and Gabe was holding his breath. Then something seemed to pass through the space between them, a subtle shift in the air, Dean's brow knotting together and Sam's head tilting ever so slightly in response. Then Dean straightened up and turned away, rubbing his hand across his mouth and then up to card the oil stained fingers through his hair before sighing heavily, reaching his hand out to his brother, palm facing the ceiling.

"Just give me the god damn keys…" he murmured.

"You sure?" Sam dug the key out of his pocket, puppy eyes still in place. "Because we can go get it if you-…"

"I said give me the keys, Sam."

Sam tossed the clip over the closed hood and Dean caught them in the air, looking down at it with an expression Gabe couldn't decipher, but which Sam apparently found pleasing because now his face was back to normal again.

"Thanks, Dean." He said tenderly and Gabriel could hear that he meant it.

"Yeah, whatever." Dean muttered.

"I'll send Gabe to pick the car up tomorrow."

Gabriel shot his boyfriend a horrified look, but Sam ignored it. Dean was still standing there staring down at the keys in his hand when they turned and began walking towards the door, but before they left Sam shot him a cocky grin over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Dean;" he said sweetly, "try not to smash any of the windows this time, will you?"

The response was a lowering snort and a raised middle finger.

"Fuck you, Sam."

"You too, Jerk."

"Bitch."

The door to the workshop closed behind them with a low rattle and once they had gotten a few paces away Gabriel turned to Sam with a brow raised in question.

"What just happened in there?" he asked and Sam scratched the back of his neck, giving him that little awkward smile that always made Gabriel want to full on body-tackle him right on the spot.

"Don't worry." he said. "Cas' car will be ready tomorrow."

"You sure?" Gabriel pointed with his thumb to the door behind them. "Because I'm having doubts on that."

"It's cool, Gabe. Dean's always like this. Once he gets under the hood he'll probably end up doing a whole lot more than just fixing the problem out of pure reflex. It's like he can't stop himself."

"Car-addict?" Gabriel asked and Sam chuckled.

"I think addiction doesn't even begin to cover it." Sam chuckled. "He's worse than you and candy, which reminds me…" He abruptly reached out and pulled the shorter man in by the hem of his collar, coming down with the force of a mountain when he pressed his lips against Gabriel's startled mouth.

"I have unfinished business with you," he purred when they pulled apart. "I recall a pair of handcuffs with your name on them back home."

"I thought you said you wanted to take it easy tonight?" Gabriel retorted with a smirk and Sam's grin turned predatory.

"That was before you made me go pick up your brother and promise to tow his car."

"Like that's something worth getting handcuffed for!" Gabe objected but Sam gave him a reprimanding look.

"You had your hand down my boxers when the phone rang, Gabe." He said slowly. "You owe me." He leaned back in and nipped at Gabriel's jawline, moving to suckle lightly at his pulse. "I'll make it worth your while…" he promised huskily and it only took a lazy drag with the tip of that tongue against his jugular for Gabe to decide that yeah, yeah, suddenly the promise of being handcuffed sounded _really _good.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"How far out are we going?"

"Not far. It's just a few minutes down this road."

"What did you say this place was called again?"

"Singer's Salvage. Don't worry bro; it's a perfectly legit institution."

"Coming from you I'm not sure if I should trust that. What exactly did Dean fix on your car when you were here anyway? The gearbox still sounds like it's going to fall through the floor whenever you shift."

Gabriel grinned widely, turning in on the road leading to Bobby's place, making a point of dragging out the previously mentioned, grating sound when he shifted down into second gear. Castiel tried to glare a more elaborate answer out of his brother, but when it became apparent that he wouldn't get one he shook his head and leaned back against the backrest with a sigh. Gabriel wasn't going to tell him anything else and if his mood was anything to go by today Castiel wouldn't be surprised if he'd find his car spray-painted in bright pink with rainbows and unicorns on the hood once they reached their destination. His brother had been smirking ever since he picked him up from work and that usually never meant good news for him, but seriously, if Gabe had done something to his car he was going to kill him!

A house suddenly came into view behind a curve of the road and Castiel barely had time to note the sign marked "Singer's Salvage" before his brother had parked the car on the driveway.

"Here we are!" he chimed happily and jumped out, sprinting around the hood and opened the door for Castiel who climbed out with a suspicious squint at his brother.

"What's going on?" he asked warily and Gabriel, the little shit, just grinned even wider, the gleam of his teeth beaten only by the one in his eyes. Castiel did not like it one bit.

"Gabriel, if you've messed with my car, I swear to god-…" he threatened, but Gabriel interrupted him.

"Your car's fine, Cassie." He draped a hand over Castiel's shoulder and pulled him closer. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"Then why do you look so happy?" Castiel retorted, twisting himself away, ignoring the use of his brother's favorite pet-name for him. Something was up, and the thing that made him more nervous than anything was the fact that Gabriel wasn't even trying to hide it. Wasn't trying or was unable to, which if possible was even worse! But Gabriel just snorted loudly and folded his arms behind his head, rocking back on his heels.

"What? A guy's not allowed to be happy all of a sudden?" he asked and Castiel glared at him.

"I know the look on your face, brother. It's the same look you had when you switched my bug-repellant for sugar water when I was going hiking with the scouts."

"C'mon, I can't believe you're still upset about that."

"I had ants in my _underwear_, Gabe."

Gabriel shrugged, an awfully crooked motion with the way he held his arms, but he didn't look the slightest sorry and Castiel sighed, pushing past his brother with just a hint of an elbow to the side.

"Forget it. Let's just get my car, I want to go home."

"As you wish."

Castiel didn't have to turn around to know that his brother was still grinning like an idiot.

The garage was located behind the house and Gabe led the way there through the many rows of cars with unwavering confidence. There was a radio playing inside and Castel could hear the lyrics from "Enter Sandman" blare out through the open doors, by the sound of it coming from an old radio rather than some expensive sound system.

The garage was almost empty apart from the two cars that were parked inside, one of them being Castiel's own and he noted that it still had the same dark blue color as before which made his heart flutter with relief. Going by the looks of the vehicles lined up outside he had expected… well, not to find his car still in once piece, that's for sure.

There was someone laying underneath the other car, which was a vintage of some sort, the only thing showing being a par of denim clad bowlegs sticking out under the slick, black frame to which Gabe now set course.

"Hey Deano!" he called out, tapping his toes against the shining rims next to one of the legs. "You taking a nap under there or what?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. Seriously, would it hurt for his brother to learn some manners? He sighed and instead walked up to his own car and dragged his hand lightly over the roof. It didn't look any different on closer inspection either. So why was Gabe being such an ass?

He heard shuffling noises coming behind him, followed by something metallic scraping against concrete.

"Kick my car again and I kick your ass, Gabriel."

Castiel's world froze.

It was as if the entire earth had stopped spinning; slowing down to this ultra rapid pace where every movement seemed to be dragged through thick layers of syrup and Castiel forgot how to breathe, how to _think_. The sound of the radio faltered and drowned within the sound of his own pulse ringing inside his head and he could feel every beat of his heart with painful clarity, suddenly horribly aware of everything going on inside his body from the breath catching in his throat to the tiny hairs on his neck rising and prickling the sensitive skin. Then everything slammed back into gear, going from zero to sixty in two seconds flat and the air sucked back into his lungs, making him dizzy. He plastered his hands on the roof of his car, fingers spreading wide, groping for stability, clinging on to something, anything to keep his legs from giving out underneath him and as he stood there bracing himself he heard Gabriel give a low 'tsk' from behind.

"Now be nice, Dean. What would Sammy say if you ended up breaking me?"

"He would thank me. Eventually."

The sound of that voice made Castiel's heart race and fire to race through his limbs, but at the same time it brought ice to his gut and somehow, he couldn't for the life of him understand how, he managed to turn his head and gape over his shoulder because _it couldn't be_…!

Gabriel was standing by the hood of the other car; hands shoved comfortably into the pockets of his jacket and in front of him with his back to Castiel was… Oh sweet mercy…

The owner of the body housing the voice Castiel had been playing shower hanky-panky with for almost four months turned out to be every inch of sex that his mind could ever have hoped to dream up.

The man's shoulders were broad and muscular underneath a dark grey t-shirt, smudged with grease and oils stains and they narrowed down to a slim waist, a perfect display of the delicate symmetries between well toned muscles and slender limbs. The waist continued in narrow hips and the ass that followed would have had him drooling had it not been for the shock still screaming through his system.

He could hear Gabriel say something else and this time the man gave a quiet chuckle in response, and that was it, there was no doubt. This man-... but _how_...?!

Castiel knew that he was staring, he knew it but he couldn't help himself and he was almost to busy trying to keep his now trembling hands under control that he almost missed the smirk his brother sent him over the stranger's shoulder, but he didn't, and he knew what was coming even before his ass of a sibling even opened his mouth and he violently shook his head, mouthing out a mute 'don't!" but it was already too late.

"Dean – meet my brother, Castiel. Cas, _this_ is Dean."

Oh god. _Oh god_!

The Adonis turned around and Castiel's heart must have skipped at least a dozen beats at the sight of the greenest eyes he had ever seen, and the smile the man sent his way rendered every other light source in the workshop completely useless. He could feel panic rise when Dean began moving towards him, hand stretched out in a greeting and Castiel knew that he had to take that hand, would have to _touch_ it, but he couldn't move and he couldn't look away, lost in the eyes that were now less than a meter away and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't _breathe_!

"Castiel, huh? Cool name."

The sound of his name from those lips, his _real_ name spoken as a whole in _that_ voice was almost too much. He stared at the face before him, heartbeat like thunder inside his chest and his eyes dropped to the outstretched hand and then moved back up as in trance. He swallowed; mouth gone dry like sandpaper. This couldn't be. How could this _be_?!

Then Dean's fingers were closing around the back of his hand and it took Castiel a few moments to realize that he had reached out and reciprocated the other's handshake without even thinking about it.

"Pleasure." He mumbled, quickly and in a voice so hoarse he was surprised he could even create sounds.

What was he doing?! He shouldn't be here, this was dangerous! If Tiger- no, if _Dean_ recognized him here he wasn't sure if he would survive it. He knew that all it took was for someone to ask him anything that required him to speak more than single syllabled words and then this whole situation would tailspin into a complete disaster.

Gabriel was grinning like the damn Cheshire cat over Dean's shoulder, pointing to the two of them and doing suggestive eyebrow wiggles that made Castiel want to punch him in the face despite the fact that none of this could actually be happening. There was no question in his mind now that this was a dream. It had to be a dream; how could it possibly be anything but a dream?! Still, the hand in his felt disturbingly real... Could it be real? Because if it was, then this was the man who had turned Castiel's entire world lopsided in just a few groaning breaths and it struck him that if that was the case, then the hand currently clutching around his fingers had been repeatedly used to stroke this man to orgasm with just the help of Castiel's own voice and he abruptly let go, taking a step back, barely avoiding to bump his back against the car still parked behind him, sporting a faint pink flush on his cheeks.

"So, Cas…" Dean looked at him, inclining his head to catch Castiel's eyes which were now diverted to the floor. "It's okay if I call you Cas, right?"

"Of course it is," Gabriel cut in, appearing by Castiel's side and draping his arm lazily over the younger man's shoulders like he had outside just minutes ago. "We're practically family, might as well cut off the titles before they stick, right?" Dean snorted loudly, turning around to return the screwdriver he was still holding in his left hand to the toolbox by the car and Gabriel beamed a triumphant smile at Castiel. The look he got in return spoke of murder, dark piers and five bags of concrete.

"Anyhow, Cas." Dean continued, paying Gabriel's comment little attention. "You don't have to worry about your wheels. Turns out all you needed was a little gas in the tank."

Castiel's head whipped around, staring at Dean in disbelief.

"What?" he choked, completely forgetting that he wasn't supposed to speak and Gabriel quickly relocated himself to the other side of the workshop, eyeing a piece of an exhaust pipe with overwhelming interest.

"Your tank was empty. Probably sucked dry by some kids, I've heard that's been happening a lot lately."

"Oh…" Castiel said sternly, sending his brother a look that would have turned a lesser man to stone, but Gabriel just returned it with an innocent smile and then he started whistling quietly to himself while plucking with a few screws lying on the table.

On second thought, make that seven bags.

Dean dug his hand out of the pocket of his jeans, dangling the keys to Castiel's car in front of him.

"I filled you up so she's all set. And don't worry about the cost," he said with a smile and an appreciative look up and down his body that cut Castiel's unspoken question off so fast he barely had time to draw breath. "It's on the house."

Castiel could not face that look for long and so he quickly averted his gaze down only to find himself helplessly staring at that intoxicatingly lewd stretch of mouth beneath instead and his entire being was soon screaming for him to lean forward, to feel the soft swelling of those lips against his own, discover their taste and the hot wetness that surely lied behind that dazzling row of teeth, but he stayed put, taking the keys out of Dean's hand with a mumbled "thanks" and a nod.

"Isn't that great, bro?" Gabriel chimed from behind Dean's back. "Too bad Sparky here didn't get the chance to pop your hood though; he's a real miracle worker. Boy, the things those hands can do with a bit of lubing." Gabriel winked at Castiel, who responded by trying to fight back a furious blush and glare daggers at him at the same time, knowing exactly what his brother was referring to. Dean however didn't seem to notice the strained atmosphere between the two siblings and just reached up to scratch at the back of his neck.

"Please Chuckles, you're making me blush here." He muttered sarcastically and the corner of Castiel's mouth twitched up into a panicked smile, the hilarious horror of the situation starting to become too much. Oh, he could think of a lot of things that would tint the color of Dean's cheeks, but a compliment on his mechanic skill wasn't one of them and he couldn't believe he just thought that.

"So there's nothing wrong with your car, but I did fix a few other things for you." Dean said and before Castiel could react or do anything there was a hand on his shoulder as Dean pulled him towards the car and the touch of those fingers burnt through his clothing and set his entire body ablaze, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but being led like a lamb to slaughter and when Dean opened the door to the driver's seat, offering Castiel to climb in he did so without protest.

When Castiel slid past the other his nose caught on to the scent of oil, gasoline, spearmint gum and beneath all that the familiar, tangy smell of citrus and sandal wood from Tiger's shampoo, all mixing together into a scent that had his body aching in just the split second it took for him to get behind the wheel. It was a good thing he was supposed to be sitting down because he felt like he was seconds away from fainting right there. He almost jumped out of his skin when Dean suddenly leaned in through the door opening, face only a few inches away from his own and Castiel couldn't run, he couldn't escape, the green of Dean's eyes being everywhere as they locked on to his.

"I got you an oil change too," he said, gesturing to the control panel. "And I toped up the cooler fluid."

Castiel nodded, squeezing around the steering wheel in his hands, praying to God for something, _anything_ to get him out of this mess. He needed to think, to compose himself, but neither of that was possible as long as Dean kept invading his personal space like this. He was too close, so close Castiel could feel the warmth of his breath ghost over his cheek as he spoke and his knuckles whitened even further.

"And I worked over the interior for you." Dean continued. "No offence, but it was about time; your trunk alone was a mess."

Castiel was about to open his mouth and grate out a short "thank you", but he only got halfway when the meaning behind those words made impact on his brain.

Dean had been in his trunk.

Dean had been in his _trunk_.

The trunk from which he had yet to remove the gym bag that had been left forgotten since his last visit to the company shower room.

The gym bag currently containing a perfectly sculpted replica of this very man's _cock_.

Praying to God suddenly wasn't enough anymore.

"So, you like it?" Dean asked and Castiel could only nod, scared to death that if he tried to speak now the only words that would come out of him would be "dildo" or possibly "rubber penis", none of them being very good alternatives at the moment.

_I have this man's dick in my trunk._

He would never make it out of this garage alive.

He could see Gabriel over the ridge of Dean's shoulder, trying desperately to stifle his grinning with his hand rubbing against his mouth and Castiel would so kill him once they got out of here, Gabriel was a dead man. Gabriel must have caught on to the look in his baby brother's eyes because he started backing away shortly afterwards, heading for the door.

"I guess I'll get going then." He announced loudly. "I'll catch you later Deano, thanks for the help."

"Sure, whatever." Dean threw back over his shoulder without allowing his gaze to leave Castiel's face for a second, but Gabriel was already gone, the door closing with a mute snap of hinges behind him on the way out.

They were alone.

Oh, god they were alone.

Dean shot him a smile that made Castiel's toes curl. He felt like he should say something, but for the life of him he couldn't come up with anything to say! He silently cursed Gabriel for putting him in this situation; the dick could at least have warned him, but of course where would the fun in that be?

His hands slid lower on the wheel, palms sweating furiously and he could feel the moist that had begun to collect at his temple and neck, sending chills down his spine. He licked his lips, but his tongue provided no moisture, rasping dryly against chapped skin and he searched his brain, desperately trying to come up with a topic that wouldn't blow his fragile cover to pieces.

It was Dean who broke the silence, though, unknowingly coming to his rescue.

"Your brother's quite a pain in the ass, huh?"

The bluntness caught Castiel off guard and he snorted in spite of his imminent panic.

"You have no idea." He mumbled and Dean chuckled and shook his head, leaning heavier on the frame of the car, his head dipping lower into the door opening.

"Oh, I think I can imagine. My own ain't exactly a saint."

"Brother's are not supposed to be." Castiel agreed, forcing his raspy voice up an octave or two.

"True." Dean agreed, smiling even wider. "Though sometimes I wish they'd just mind their own business, you know?"

Castiel nodded. Oh, didn't he know it, though at the moment his feelings were a bit torn on the subject.

"So, you've got your apartment back yet?" Dean asked and this time Castiel didn't need to fake a higher register.

"W-what?"

"Sam told me you've been living with your brother for a while. Something about a leak in your apartment?"

Castiel's insides completely iced over. The leak. Oh god, had he mentioned the leak? Did Tiger know about the leak?! Raking through his memories of the last six months he groped after any mentioning of the reason to why he had been in the company's shower room to begin with but he couldn't recall a thing. Oh dear, please don't let Dean have recognized that. Please make it so that he had managed to keep his mouth shut!

"Uh… yes. I did, but it's fixed now."

"Glad to hear that. Can't imagine how it must have been living with him for all that time."

"It wasn't all bad." Castiel objected and Dean's eyebrows shot up in impressed surprise.

"Really? Wow, you must have the mentality of a saint."

_Or an angel…_ Castiel thought to himself, not without irony.

"You get used to it. He tires eventually, after a month or two." He smiled to himself and Dean laughed, eyes sparkling and sending delightful tremors through his body. Oh, how he had missed that laugh. How he had missed _this_, the talking and teasing; it all flowed on so smoothly, so _naturally_. How did he ever think he would be able to live without this?

Dean looked at him, eyes crinkling at the edges from a smile that Castiel would have been content watching for the rest of his life, but sadly the close proximity to those lips made that a very dangerous business. There was a lump in his throat threatening to choke him and a pulling in his lower abdomen that made him want to lean his head back and groan. His tongue darts out once more and this time Dean's eyes lock on to the movement, his own lips parting a little in the process.

"So… what's happening?" he asks and Castiel could swear that the other's voice had dropped into a smoothed out purr.

"Happening?" Castiel breathes and his eyes struggle to rip away from the sight of that mesmerizing mouth.

"Yeah, you know" Dean chuckled a little, the sound and puffed out breath shooting straight south through Castiel's body. "Like for the weekend? You got plans? Somewhere to be?"

"No… not really."

"Yeah, me neither." Dean pushed away from the car and stretched, arching his back like an enormous jungle cat and Cas could barely hold back a whimper at the display before him and then Dean relaxed with a content sigh, coming down to eyelevel with the man inside the car once more. "I'm thinking about spending Saturday night on the couch watching an old movie or something." He announced. "Maybe you should do the same?"

"It sounds relaxing." Castiel agreed quietly

Something glints in those green eyes the moment the words leave Castiel's mouth and Cas' breath hitches uncontrollably. Did Dean just indirectly ask him out?

Was Dean flirting with him? Holy fuck, were they _flirting_?

Then suddenly Dean's smile falters and he groans, pulling away.

"Shit, man, I'm sorry."

For a moment Castiel has no idea what he's talking about, but then Dean whips out a rag from his back pocket, reaches in and grabs Castiel's hand of the wheel and starts wiping it off. It's not until then that Castiel notices the smudged out handprint that's left behind on the steering wheel, realizing that the grease on Dean's hands must have rubbed off on Castiel's own when they greeted each other earlier.

"It comes out easily, I swear." Dean fidgeted with the rag and Castiel just stared at the fingers clutching his hand.

"It's alright." He tried, but Dean's eyes rose from his hand to his face and then he winced gesturing at Castiel's shoulder where another dark handprint had been smudged over the fabric.

"Aw fuck, it's all over your suit too!"

"There's really no worry," Castiel assured him. "It's just a cheap suit anyway."

"Here, let me get the wheel for you."

Without warning Dean dove into the car and started wiping the steering wheel down and Castiel pressed himself back into his seat, trying to give him room, but the narrow space made it very hard. Dean's arms brushed against his chest and Cas was painfully aware of the heat radiating off the other's body, pulsating against him and burning straight through his clothes. Dean's face was just an inch away from his own now and he could see every single detail with painstaking clarity, from the small grains on the stubble of his cheeks to the thick eyelashes lowering over well defined cheekbones. How easy wouldn't it be just to reach out and turn that head to the side and press those lips against his? How easy wouldn't it be to just tell him everything right here and now, to come clean; explaining that he had an ass of a brother who just like Dean's couldn't stay out of other people business? His finger's twitched against his knees and his heart was pounding a staggering beat against his ribcage. Couldn't Dean hear it? He was so close; he should be able to hear everything, every single thrum and reverbing staccato inside Castiel's chest.

How easy wouldn't it be…?

"Dean…"

"Yeah?"

Green eyes turned towards him, head shifting but not pulling back and they were so close, so incredibly close and his breath was on Castiel's face, hot and sweet and _there_. Castiel's right hand came up, aiming to grasp around Dean's jaw, but instead found the steering wheel again, fingers latching on so hard around the leather that Castiel doubted he would ever be able to let go of it again.

Castiel stares at him and Dean looks straight back, and there's something there, something within the mossy depths of those eyes that makes Castiel's entire body freeze up, unable to move. He watches Dean tilt his head, upper body shifting towards him in slow motion and he can't bring himself to say or do anything about it, his lips parting with the whisper of a breath and Dean's moving closer, eyes locked, asking for permission, and Castiel gives it, oh god help him, he gives it.

Dean's eyes flicker to his lips and then up again and they're so close now that Castiel can feel the warmth radiating of his face. Then Dean's gaze seems to catch on to something in Castiel's own eyes and he sucks in a breath that makes Castiel's heart jump.

"Fuck, your eyes…" he groans and the new, husky dimension of his voice makes Castiel's stomach pull tight in something that could have been pain if only it didn't feel so good. Castiel swallows, eyes flickering, tongue darting out in a desperate attempt to moisture his chapped lips, but barely working. Dean blinks and swallows too; the sharp jut of his Adam's apple shifting in his throat and when he speaks next there's something new to his voice that cracks the words on their way past his lips.

"Wow… they're really…"

Then suddenly Dean was out of the car and the retracted heat from his body left Castiel shivering in the front seat.

"I'm sorry." Dean pulled his hands through his hair, leaving strands of hair to spike out in oily tussles in their wake. "I didn't mean to be all-… fuck, I'm sorry!"

Castiel watched as Dean backed away, eyes darting, looking everywhere except at Castiel and Castiel can't move from his spot inside the car, knuckles white around the steering wheel with the other hand fisted in his trench coat and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say, how to _react_ because he has no idea what's happening!

Dean must notice his confusion because he groans again, burying his face in his hands.

"It's just-… You reminded me of someone and I-… fuck I'm so stupid…!" He cuts himself of and looks up, and the light that was in his eyes just moments ago was gone, the sparkly green color directed at him dull and murky and Castiel could see the once so gleeful shimmer dying like the final, gasping flicker at the wick of a blown out candle.

"You should go." He grits out, politely but firm. "Don't wanna keep your brother waiting."

Castiel stares at him, stunned to silence, mind working frantically to catch up with the situation, thoughts screaming inside his head that something had just gone horribly, horribly wrong! Dean was asking him to leave. Why did he want him to leave? What did he do?!

"Dean…"

"It was nice meeting you, Cas."

And that right there is a good bye as much as anything; the broad planes of Dean's shoulders tense and rigid as he turns his back to Castiel and disappears below the hood of his own car, and Castiel's mind goes numb.

He has no memory of closing the car door, or sliding in the key to turn the ignition on. He doesn't recall how he backed out of the garage or maneuvered himself up through the narrow row of cars lined up on the backyard of Singer's Salvage, but when his brain kicks back in he's driving down the same dirt road he and Gabriel had come from earlier and he almost misses that his brother is parked by an intersection further ahead, waiting for him while leaning comfortably against his own car door.

Cas' foot hits the breaks so hard the car almost spins out of control on the gravel and it halts less than a foot away from his brother's bumper. He's out of the car in a flash and then Gabriel's shoved up against the door panel so hard the car sways.

"You son of a bitch!" he yells, fingers twisting the fabric of Gabriel's shirt, teeth bared in a snarl that in no way matches the smirk on his brother's face.

"Hey, easy there, bro. No need to get touchy."

"Give me one good reason to why I shouldn't punch your face in right now!"

Gabriel frowns, looking at Castiel as if he just asked him the dumbest question in the world.

"What's with the tantrum? I found him for you, you should be thanking me!"

"_Thanking_ you?!"

Gabriel stumbles when Castiel throws him to the side, but he remains upright, spinning around and holding his hands out in front of him in defense.

"Okay, so maybe it was a bit blunt, but I wanted to surprise you." He offered and Castiel glared at him, hands bawling into fists by his sides.

"Well, you did!" he snapped. "You _idiot_, do you have any idea what could have happened had he recognized me?!"

At that the amused glint that had been residing in Gabriel's eyes disappeared, getting replaced with the sharp gleam as that of a blade, followed by a dangerous tightening of his jaw.

"As a matter of fact, yes!" he snapped back. "Question is; do you?!" Gabriel's voice is suddenly hard and it takes Castiel aback for a moment, his mouth clamping shut when his older brother straightens up and gives him a look that Castiel hasn't seen since he was seven years old.

"If I had told you where we were going; who we were about to meet; then you would never have come with me and you know it!" he begins sharply. "Look at you! You've been down so low you've been staring up at the soles of your shoes for over a month! I'm not stupid Cas, I _know_! I _see_ and right now I see you showing more spirit than you have since that time I filled the vent in your car with baby powder!" He spits the last thing out like it's an insult. "So you go ahead and tell me; which part of seeing him again could possibly have made things _worse_?!"

Castiel glared at him, nostrils flaring and lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't say anything. Gabriel's eyes were like molten steel, glowing with amber in the setting sun and the air between them had grown thick and loaded like a thunderstorm. Castiel's gaze his hard and to most people it would be terrifying, but Gabriel's eyes does not falter. They pin Castiel to the dirt road beneath his feet and hold him, stripping him clean and exposing him to the harshness of his brother's words; they strike him like the cutting edge of a whip against bared flesh and he knows that the pain they cause is only there because they're true.

"You don't understand-" he starts, but Gabriel interrupts him.

"Understand what? That you love him? Because that's old news, buddy."

"That's not what I meant…" Castiel found himself squirming, eyes darting to the side to escape the fire in Gabriel's gaze. He had never been able to lie to Gabriel. Gabriel saw _everything_. _Always_.

"Castiel."

He looked up, a painful clench in his stomach. Gabriel never addressed him using his full name. Not since that night all those years ago when they had escaped the torment of their older brother, the night where they had celebrated Gabriel's sixteenth birthday at a bus stop downtown with a pack of skittles and a soda Gabriel had kicked out of a vending machine in the subway. And right now Gabriel was looking at him the same way he had back then, eyes glazy with so many unsaid things pressing on behind those hazel mirrors that Castiel could barely stand the sight of them. Because Castiel had never been able to lie to Gabriel, and Gabriel had never in his life lied to Cas, not when it really mattered. And this, this right here; it _mattered_.

"He's right _there_, bro."

It was with much agony that Castiel kept himself from turning his eyes over his shoulder, to gaze down the road to Singer's Salvage from where he had just left.

"All you have to do is to go get him."

"I can't." He hated himself for the wounded whimper in his voice, but he couldn't take it back and he could feel Gabriel roll his eyes at him.

"That again? Really?" When Castiel didn't answer he sighed and threw his hands out.

"Fine, I wasn't going to say anything, but apparently this ain't going anywhere unless I do."

"Say anything about what?" Castiel frowned and Gabriel swaggered past him and jumped up to sit on the trunk of his car, resting his feet on Castiel's bumper. For several minutes he just sat there and stared towards the horizon, squinting in the light of the setting sun and after a while Castiel joined him, climbing on top of the car and settling beside his brother in silence with a confused frown on his face.

Out here in the warmth of the fading summer the events in the garage seemed like a distant memory, or a dream that had already begun to fade away. He looked down at the palm of his hand, looked at the dark streaks of oil that had nestled itself into the fine lines of his palm and for a moment he felt like he was going to lose his balance altogether, the sight of Dean's legacy on his skin being too much to handle. He brought his hand up and rubbed it against his neck, trying to will the goose bumps prickling the skin there away, but without success. The hand then slowly crept down the jut of his collar to gently fold over the smudged out handprint that was still curled around the curve of his upper arm and shoulder and he took a deep shuddering breath, feeling the shock begin to settle in his system, bringing a fine tremble to his limbs.

"You haven't asked me how I found him yet." Gabriel said silently and Cas flinched despite himself.

He didn't answer though and after a moment Gabriel continued on his own.

"It was Sam." He confessed, sighing as if he would have preferred to find it out on his own rather than being told. "He told me that his brother had been fired and that he was really broken up about it. I didn't give it much thought at first, just thinking the dude seemed a bit too attached to his job…" He leaned back, tilting his head up to the sky. "Then he told me that his brother used to work late and use the company shower every Friday. Apparently it was impossible to make him skip it." A hazel and golden eye peered open at him. "Sound like anyone you know?" he asked and Castiel swallowed hard.

Gabriel looked at him and nodded silently.

"Putting two and two together wasn't that hard. I just had to get you out here somehow. Like I said, picking you up and telling you straight out would only have given you the shakes and _that_," he pointed at the tip of his nose, "would without a doubt have ended in disaster."

Now it was Castiel's turn to nod, because of course, it was true. The shock alone was probably the only thing that had enabled him to function at all inside that garage. Gabriel knew it. They both knew it.

"So. I've told you how I found him…" Gabriel turned towards him, face still serious but with a smirk playing in the golden tones of his eyes. "Now you tell me how come you're not spread eagle on the hood of that Chevy right now with his tongue down your throat?"

"Gabriel!" Castiel gasped, but his brother only shrugged.

"What? It's a perfectly legitimate question! I literally serve you the guy of your dreams on a silver platter and you don't even stay behind to give him a little tongue fondling?"

Castiel grimaced at his brother's use of words and his glare was only marred by the blush creeping up his cheeks. The look Gabriel sent his way was almost painful.

"Please tell me you at least scored a date with the man?" he asked and Castiel's tongue swiped out to moisture his lips, but when he didn't answer Gabriel sent an incredulous groan to the sky.

"I swear, sometimes I can't believe that you and I are even related."

"Trust me, the feeling's mutual." Castiel assured him.

"So what now?" Gabriel leaned back, resting his shoulders and neck against the back window. "You know where he's holding up now. You know his name… Where do you plan on going from here?"

"I don't know." Castiel mumbled and Gabriel groaned.

"What is there to know? C'mon, Cas, he's right _there_! You just have to grab him!"

"I've already told you that it's complicated."

"Oh really? Then let me _uncomplicate_ it for you." He sat back up and canted his head down, forcing Castiel's eyes to meet with his. "Dean _misses you_, jackass!" Castiel's eyes widened and Gabriel caught the poorly contained hitch of his brother's breath.

"Sam told me your little boyfriend's been housing the temperament of a rattlesnake ever since he got fired. He snaps at people, throws tantrums and lashes out without explanation and every single time do you know what he does afterwards?"

Castiel looks away, but Gabriel's eyes are fixed on his face, like a laser tracking and analyzing every single twitch and pull of the muscles there and Cas is tense, he doesn't know what his brother is about to say, he's not sure he want's to know, but he _needs_ to know so he holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable blow and when it comes it knocks the air out of him completely;

"He takes a shower."

The words resonated through his entire body, ringing out with the sound of clanging steel, mixing with the memory of Dean's voice from before and making him suck in breath loudly between his teeth.

_You reminded me of someone…_

His eyes. Dean had been looking at his eyes.

_Your eyes… Wow… they're really…_

"Blue." He said it out loud, the nickname falling from his lips in a punched out breath at the same time as a faint flicker of hope ignited somewhere inside his chest.

Oh.

_Oh._

Gabriel was still watching him, he could tell without looking, but his reaction seemed to please his brother because he was pulling back once more to lean against the windshield of his car and staring up at the darkening sky with a satisfied smile on his lips. He barely had the time to settle though before a guitar riff shattered the silence, the tones of some 70's rock band bursting from the phone in Gabriel's jeans. He dug the device out and took a look at the screen, smile twitching slightly at the sight of whoever was calling before he brought the phone to his ear, interrupting the singer that had just begun to apologize for something he had done that he apparently didn't mean.

"Hi, Babe." he chirped, "Listen, can I call you back, this is a bit of-?"

He cut himself off and Castiel was ripped from the lingering shock of his revelation when he heard the voice on the other side of the line give a snappy response that clearly informed Gabriel that calling back later was not even being brought up for discussion right now.

He watched as his brother's smile faltered, slowly being replaced with a confused scowl.

"Yeah I'm with Cas, we just picked up his car. Sam, what's-?" once again he was cut off in the middle of his sentence and Sam's voice got even louder. Castiel watched Gabriel's face blanch a little and then, honest to god, his brother nodded into the phone like a school boy who's just been scolded by the teacher.

"We're on our way." He said and Cas could hear the crackle when Sam hung up first.

"What's wrong?" he asked and Gabriel stared at the phone as if he expected it to jump up and bite him at any second.

"I have absolutely no idea, but he sounded pissed."

He jumped off the trunk and walked around to the driver's side.

"Get a move on, Sam wanted to see us right away."

"Us?" Castiel asked, confused, as he made his way to his own car.

"Yeah, he told me to bring you with me. It was the only thing he was actually being clear on."

Castiel gulped. From the way Sam had been sounding, he was not entirely sure that his requested presence meant good things for him.

Oh god, what if Dean had phoned Sam for some reason and… no, that was stupid. Dean had no idea that Cas and Blue were the same person, why would he tell his brother…? Then again, Cas told _his_ brother, so there was always a possibility that Dean had done the same.

What if Dean had recognized him? The eyes… He had noticed his eyes! Or perhaps he just remembered that Blue also had a leak in his apartment? Or his voice? Damn it he knew he had been talking too much! Oh, sweet Jesus, he _knew_! He _knew_ and he had phoned Sam and now…! To be honest he had absolutely no idea what was happening now, only that he didn't like it!

He watched Gabriel get into his car and start up the motor, so he quickly returned to his own and did the same. As he gripped the wheel to follow his brother down the road back to town he could feel Dean's phantom breath ghost across his face and he suppressed the urge to shudder. The longing for Dean's touch returned with renewed strength, but he fought it back, pressing his right foot down a little bit harder instead, causing the car to skid back out on the road with an angry growl. He didn't dare indulge in the thought of such things before he knew what Sam's call had been about. If things turned out to be bad he wasn't sure if his heart would be able to handle such a letdown… The hollow sound of Dean's voice and the memory of those squared shoulders were painful enough.

He tried not to linger on the fact that this meant that his future now rested within the palms of a giant who had just ended a very upset call by doing the cellphone version of slamming the phone down on his boyfriend's ear. If this indeed turned out to be something bad he might not have to worry about potential heartbreak after all – Sam would simply snap his spine like a twig.

* * *

**_So how do you like the plot so far? Am I twisting it at the right places? Have I missed out on explaining something or left questions unanswered that should have been answered already? Please let me know if you come up with anything, okay? =D_**

**_Love you all!_**


	8. Chapter 8

Turned out Gabriel had his own key to Sam's apartment, but as normal as that would seem, Castiel still felt like an intruder when he followed his brother in through the front door.

The place was not much different from Gabriel's own; still a one bedroom apartment, though the living room was longer, and a bit narrower. The kitchen was bigger, with dark grey cabinets instead of Gabriel's red, and the round table that graced the kitchen was in contrary to Gabriel's square, close to spartanly bare one, barely visible beneath the monumental heap of papers and folders that currently resided on top of it. A laptop whirred somewhere in the middle of the chaos and together with the tall lamp by the sofa it was the only light source currently operative in the dusk of the apartment.

Sam emerged from the bedroom the moment the door closed behind them, and had it not been for the protective barrier that was Gabriel separating them Castiel would have turned tail and fled right back out on the streets because there were few things he had come across in his life that were scarier than having a 6.4 feet tall, pissed off giant come barging straight towards you.

Luckily for Cas however, it wasn't the trench coat wearing sibling Sam was aiming for, but his brother.

"You!" he spat and a finger the size of a small bread loaf came up to point Gabriel in the face. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Gabriel on his end didn't move, didn't even flinch, but a scowl appeared on his face and he gently steered the offensive digit away with the back of his hand.

"Whoa there, Sam… Calm down, what's going on?"

"How about you tell me?" Sam gritted out, swatting Gabriel's hand away as if the mere touch of it was an insult. Gabriel's confusion was evident in his face, and he eyed his boyfriend's hostile face warily.

"Sorry, babe," he apologized quietly, "but I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about your _brother_, Gabe!" Sam snarled and Castiel's heart could not have dropped faster had it been made out of stone.

"Cas?" Gabriel scowled even deeper and threw a confused look at his brother over his shoulder, and if he was thinking the same as Castiel then at least he wasn't showing it. "What about him?"

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching threateningly.

"When exactly were you planning to tell me?" he bit off and in response Gabriel threw his hands out in what even Castiel would have taken for complete innocence.

"Tell you _what_? Sam, I don't-"

"That he's a fucking _board member_!"

Castiel blinked. Okay, so that was not what he had expected to hear and neither had Gabriel it seemed because for a few seconds he just stood there, gaping in silence.

"Well… yeah," he said, stumped. "He is, but what does that have to-?"

"Cut the bullshit, Gabriel!"

Gabe shut his mouth with a faint click of teeth and if possible Sam seemed to grow even more enormous as he towered over the smaller man, Gabriel's average height barely capable of bringing him up to eyelevel with Sam's shirt clad chest.

"I tell you my brother's a complete mess because he lost his job." Sam hissed, the words dragging out through his teeth like poison. "I tell you how he's basically in _pieces_; I even bring you along so that you can see it all for yourself, and _despite_ that, you couldn't find the time to tell me that your god damn _brother_ is a member of the board that got him fired?!" Castiel swallowed hard when the angry finger from before suddenly pointed at him. "Where you even going to?!" Sam demanded, eyes flashing dark, anger seething in the normally so cheerful depths.

Now, for the record it should be said that that Gabriel had spent most of his childhood years with taller, older and significantly stronger people yelling at him over very short distances, some of those verbal fights even escalating into physical violence, so it was understandable that he wasn't showing the same kind of dread for Sam like for example Castiel would, had he been placed in the same situation. However, none of these formerly mentioned people had ever been tall or big enough to successfully manage the feat of tossing him out of the room using only one hand, so when Gabriel spoke next, he made sure to choose his words _very_ carefully and deliver them with as much delicacy as his blunt personality could muster.

"Sam…" he started. "To be completely honest; the thought never even crossed my mind. _Because_;" he continued, cutting Sam's protest off, "I can assure you that the fact that Castiel is on the board has _nothing_ to do with your brother getting fired."

"You think so?" Sam snarled, causing Gabriel's eyebrows to shoot up.

"I know so." he answered firmly. "If the majority of the board wanted to pass the motion then he couldn't have done anything to prevent it."

"Really?" Sam turned to the table, grabbed a large paper portfolio out of the heap and held it up; finger's digging into the paper hard enough to dent it. "He could have started by not voting _yes_."

He shoved the thick folder into Gabriel's arms and Gabe caught it with a confused frown, waiting for further explanation. When none came he opened it up and began eyeing through the first few papers, gaze darting over words and paragraphs, the frown still in place until his eyes suddenly widened, disbelief gleaming sharp and clear like a knife in the pools of golden brown and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

"You see." Sam looked almost obnoxiously smug in his triumph. "It's all right there."

"This is fake." Gabriel deadpanned, slamming the covers together with a sharp pang. "They've added that part afterwards, Cas wouldn't-"

"Read it properly!" Sam snarled. "He knew _exactly_ what he was doing!"

It was like watching a thunderstorm roll in over the room, the razor sharp glint in Sam's eyes forcing Castiel to fight a sudden urge to curl into himself and disappear right there on the living room floor. Sam's anger was evident, almost touchable and seeing the normally so gentle man in such a state of emotional rage was even worse than the prospects of getting pummeled into the nearest wall by those gigantic fists. It was painful to watch, even so when Sam turned towards him, the full force behind that cruel stare hitting him like a punch to the gut.

"Real neat trick by the way." Sam snorted, regarding him with the same affection as that of an ice block. "You get him fired and now he's fixing your car." Sharp eyes narrowed dangerously. "Real classy."

Gabriel's hands twitched around the folder he was still holding, his face hardening and jaw setting with an indignant scowl. For a moment he looked torn between the desire of smacking his boyfriend over the head with the solid stack of papers and the desire to toss it aside to cuddle him into a soothing hug instead.

"Sam, you're being ridiculous," he said sharply. "Cas didn't even know about your brother until today, I was the one who-"

"Gabriel."

Gabe's head whipped around when Castiel spoke, a thousand protests flashing across his face.

"But-" he started, abruptly silencing when Castiel held up a hand to shut him up.

"Sam's right." He announced soberly, turning to look the giant in the eyes. "About everything."

Sam's shoulders squared, muscles coiling aggressively beneath the red plaid, but before he had the chance to say anything Castiel added; "Everything, except the fact that those protocols _are_, indeed, fake."

Sam's mouth opened to say something again, but Castiel walked right past him, confidently grabbing the portfolio out of his brother's hands, ignoring the way Sam was glaring at him, still with his hands clenched by his sides as if not sure what else to do with them.

"You got these from the archives at human resources, correct?" he asked and Sam's jaw flexed; the tendons in his neck tensing. For a moment he seemed to contemplate on whether he should answer the question or not, but then he finally managed to grit out a stern;

"Yes."

Castiel shook his head, still not breaking eye contact.

"That's not where you're supposed to be looking."

"Excuse me?" Sam spat, but this time Castiel didn't even flinch, suddenly calm and at ease, feeling confidence calm and soothe his nerves. This he could handle. This wasn't personal – it was _business,_ and if there was one thing Castiel was good at, this was it.

"These." He waved the folder at the remaining mess on the table. "Are not the original meeting protocols. They're the adjusted copies that are used as reference material for future meetings. If you had the originals you would have seen that not only did I vote against the motion for more cutbacks, but so did many others."

Sam's eyes flickered between Cas and the stack of papers, visibly torn between the anger he had most likely spent the entire evening to work up and the insight originating from this new information taking hold, lighting up the dark storm clouds rolling behind his eyes. Gabriel watched as the giant's shoulders slouched, the hostility falling away like a cloak slowly dropping to the floor and rendering him deflated like a popped balloon. The sight was almost comical, but Gabriel withheld the snide comment playing at the tip of his tongue and instead focused all his attention to Castiel.

"Where are the originals?" he asked bluntly, and Castiel could hear the trust placed within that question as clearly as had it been spelled for him out on a piece of paper and there were simply no words to describe the gratitude he felt towards his obnoxious older brother in that moment, the support almost like a physical hand on his shoulder to keep him steady, strengthening him.

He flicked his eyes towards Sam, hesitant. He wanted nothing more than to tell them that he didn't know, having no desire of dragging the younger Winchester further into this mess, but then his eyes slid over to rest upon the chaos of the kitchen table and he knew that Sam would never let this go; he would never stop digging until he had unraveled what had happened to Dean, and that would put him at an even bigger risk than sharing the information with him now and that's when he decided that, oh to hell with it…

"They're stored in a separate database connected directly to a laptop used by the secretary to transcribe the meetings." He explained. "It registers the individual taps of the keyboard through software that downloads the information directly to the mainframe. Every typo, every grammatical error and every back trace is registered there."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up in an impressed arch and he stared at Castiel in surprised awe.

"Cassie," he said, almost sounding proud. "I didn't know you were such a techie?"

"I'm not." Castiel deferred dryly, tossing the paper folder back were it had first been picked up. "I looked that particular piece of information up a long time ago."

"Why?" Sam cut in, voice not as hard as before, but still with a suspicious edge to it and Castiel flashed an annoyed look his way.

"Because our beloved CEO is using the software to abuse the system, that's why." He countered, growing slightly impatient with the other's hostility, even though understandable. "All of this," he gestured to the mountain of paper work "is just a vast collection of lies; lies that I can't prove. Others have tried and they've been forced to leave just as abruptly as your brother. The cutbacks, the faked protocols; it's all done for a reason, I just can't seem to figure out why..."

Sam seemed to contemplate this information for bit, chewing the inside of his left cheek while keeping his gaze locked on the folders in front of them.

"So this storage in the mainframe," he thought out loud. "You're saying the real protocols are kept there?"

"Yes." Cas nodded once.

"Then why not print them out? Reveal the scam and send the douchebag packing?"

"Because I can't." Castiel sighed. "The only one with access-codes to the mainframe storage is Zachariah himself and a handful of others who's most likely in on the whole thing. I would have to hack the mainframe, but sadly I can barely handle an electric shaver on my own… and it it's not like I can put up ads on the bulletin board in the cafeteria requesting the help."

"So, you did what instead?" Sam muttered. "You just let Zachariah have at it while you shrugged it off, getting comfy in your corner office?"

"I laid low." Castiel glared at Sam, and apparently he must have done it right because Sam shut his mouth and literally shrunk under his gaze. "I waited, kept my eyes open while looking for the right moment." He sighed mournfully. "It never came." He glanced at the heap of papers once more. "How about you?" he asked, "What compelled you to go digging through the company's dirty laundry?"

Sam chewed at his bottom lip and shrugged.

"I overheard some stuff at work and got curious. So I just… grabbed hold of the first loose end I could find and started pulling."

"I take it you found something more than just faked meeting protocols?" Castiel inquired, already knowing the answer from the way the corner of Sam's lip quirked in response.

"You might say that…" He gestured for them to come closer as he walked over to the laptop, fingers already rapping swiftly over the keys before he had even seated fully in his chair.

"I also thought there might be more to these cutbacks than meets the eye." He said, windows and broken pieces of code flashing over the screen before their eyes as he talked. "I searched for a pattern; dates, names, years of employment, the whole nine yards, but I couldn't find anything. So I did complete scan with a system I built, cross-referencing all the information I could get my hands on and that's when I found it."

A list popped up on the screen, name upon name stacked over one another in a long, long row.

"You see?" Sam asked, pointing to a field right next to one of the names, marked with an X. "None of the people Zachariah fired were connected to the union."

Castiel watched as Sam clicked a button on the screen, the order of the names changing, every name marked with an X now lining up in a neat line, all of them followed by the ominous word "terminated".

"It makes sense." Cas agreed quietly. "They would have no one to represent them in a conflict with the company, making them less likely to put up a fight."

"Exactly." Sam nodded, "but there's another thing; none of the people who were fired had been employed for less than five years, so I asked myself; what happens when you've been working at Edenstar for more than five years?"

"You get a free dinner?" Gabriel pinched in from the counter behind them, not even bothering to look up from the chocolate bar he had managed to manifest from one of Sam's kitchen cupboards, but the other two ignored him.

"Term of notice." Castiel suddenly mumbled. "It goes up from one month to three."

Sam raised a finger.

"Right, but I checked. Guess how many of the people who got fired actually received all three months?"

Castiel looked at him and Sam smiled.

"_None_." He smirked. "They were all forced to leave the very same day."

"That is not an unusual thing, Sam." Castiel reasoned. "People can be ordered off the worksite the same day they receive their notice."

"I know, but when that happens they still get paid, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, Dean wasn't."

Castiel scowled.

"None of them were." Sam continued, and Castiel could see how the unfairness in that statement seemed to eat at the young man from within. "Dean was told that the money was going to be withheld to pay for the losses he had caused the company, and that he should be lucky they didn't sue him for more. I tried to tell him that it was illegal for them to do so, but… he said he didn't want to start a fight."

"I see…" Castiel bit the inside of his cheek, his hand forming a fist by his side. He knew the reason to why Dean had not wanted to start a conflict with Edenstar about _anything_, but he couldn't reveal how he had found that out, especially not to Sam.

Dean… what else had he sacrificed in order to keep his brother safe in all this? And here Castiel was, slowly pushing said brother closer towards the edge of the fight against the will of his own kin… Would Dean forgive him if he knew? Would he understand that this was safer than letting Sam lose on the company all by himself?

He could remember the sound of Dean's voice from that day as clearly as had the man been standing there right beside him. That strong, confident tone shattered into such despair… defeated, and the knuckles of his hand crackled when his fist hardened further. Sam was precious, something worth losing everything for and Castiel be damned if he wasn't going to do his best to protect him.

He looked at Gabriel. He had not mentioned Dean's ultimatum to his brother when coming clean about the reason to his mood lately, and perhaps it was just as good. Dean had Zachariah's threat hanging like a chain around his neck that the company could yank at will, bound to them still even after his dismissal, but Gabriel… Gabriel would work them over like a rabid pit bull released from its cage if he found out about the way they had threatened someone he cared about the way he cared about Sam. There would be nothing left but a shredded, bloodstained suit once he was done.

Somehow the thought didn't seem as repulsive as he thought it would.

"I compared the paychecks to the people fired with the papers from human resources," Sam continued, not taking any note of Castiel's sudden silence, "and it says right here that they all got paid up until the day when they were forced to quit, and then the checks all say the same thing; 'after reduced amount according to agreement' followed by a big, fat zero."

"So if they're not getting their money," Castiel thought out loud, "then where did the money go?"

Sam nodded, still eagerly typing.

"I thought the same thing. So I hacked into a few people's bank accounts-..."

"You _what_?!" Gabriel croaked, almost falling off the counter, spluttering half eaten pieces of his chocolate bar over the floor.

"Calm down, I didn't steal anything." Sam objected, but Gabe just stared at him in disbelief.

"Where the hell did you learn how to hack bank accounts?"

"I specialize in computerized security; it's my job to know how to hack into things."

"Yeah, but _bank accounts_?" Gabriel gaped, an impressive undertone sneaking itself into his voice. "Remind me to let you pay next time we go out for dinner."

"I always pay!" Sam protests loudly. "And it's not like I do this on a regular basis."

"One time is enough if you get caught." Gabe pointed out sourly, "and I'm not bailing you out of jail if that's what you think."

"I don't get caught, Gabe." Sam rolled his eyes to the ceiling, ignoring the smaller man's crude attempt to express his concern. "And I know it's illegal, but just take a look at what I found." He turned the laptop around, allowing Gabriel to get a more detailed view.

"You see it?" he urged as Gabe squinted his eyes, leaning in closer in order to see the text printed over the page.

"I do," Castiel rumbled, turning the laptop back, glaring at the name announcing the owner of the account they were viewing. "Zachariah…"

Gabriel whistled.

"So Mr. Cueball's been fixing himself up with a little extra income, huh?"

Castiel glowered at the screen. He had expected there to be foul play, of course he had, but this… This was like something taken straight out of a movie.

"How many people have been let go since the cut backs started?" he asked sharply and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know… After Dean left there's been at least five more that I know of, then there's the three that were let go the same day he was…"

"And that's only over the course of a month…" Castiel mumbled, "The cutbacks have been going on for over a year."

"So…" Sam pursed his lips, calculating the figures inside his head. "about ten, fifteen people a month?"

"More." Cas corrected. "When the savings first started the company released over fifty people over the course of two weeks…"

Sam did a quick re-evaluation, leaning back in his chair and squinting at the ceiling.

"So… thirty? Thirty people a month, for a whole year, each person with three months of, if we count it low, minimum wage that they didn't receive… that makes…" he paused, his eyes widening when the final number slotted into place inside his head. "Almost 5 million dollars." He breathed and Gabriel let out another impressed whistle.

"That's a lot of money."

"And it's only the tip of the iceberg." Sam whispered, quickly changing windows on the screen, tapping away on the keyboard. Castiel caught the familiar glimpse of the login screen to Edenstar as it flashed before his eyes and then it was gone, drowned in the flurry of code Sam was punching in.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I did some calculations, and there is no way that this company has been able to survive with only the people we have left after the cut backs. The people who were fired were not connected to the union, but it's no secret that the savings has been made. The rules states that the company has to wait nine months before they hire someone new, or they'll get every single lawyer the union has to offer on their asses, so I went through the employee database files, starting with the ones dated nine months after the first person had been fired."

A few glaring windows popped up, blinking angrily on the screen, but Sam punched them down with a few well delivered presses on the keyboard.

"You're hacking into Edenstar." Castiel stated silently and Sam flinched in his seat, as if being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It was funny how hacking a back account didn't seem to faze him the slightest, but being called out on breaching the company's fire wall apparently made him feel very guilty going by the way he was squirming in his seat.

"Uh… yeah, I-"

"I thought hacking through the system would take longer?" Cas nodded towards the screen. "You're making it look easy."

"Well, uhm…" Sam stuttered, taken aback by the subtle praise. "As a matter of fact I… kind of did the tricky parts yesterday."

"That's my Chocolate Moose." Gabriel beamed, ignoring the look said moose gave him in return before returning his attention to the laptop.

"Here it is." He announced, bringing an employee file up on the screen. "This is the first guy that got hired after the nine months were up. Look at his salary."

Castiel looked at the numbers, a disbelieving frown appearing on his brow.

"I am going to assume that's not what he's actually receiving?" he muttered and Sam snorted.

"Not even by a long shot. The pay has been reduced with about 20%, due to 'company instatement policy', and that's _before_ taxes. I have never even heard the term before."

"That's because it doesn't exist." Castiel rumbled, "There's no such thing."

"Figured as much…" He gestured to the screen. "Now, the first one who can guess where those reduced, tax-free 20% ends up, gets a golden star."

Castiel sighed heavily, resting his hands on his hips, craning his head back.

"Yup." Sam confirmed silently and Cas resisted the urge to scream.

"That Zachariah guy seems like a proper asshole to me." Gabriel snorted. "Sounds like he could use someone to knock him off that high horse of his…"

"Indeed." Castiel agreed through gritted teeth before leaning forward again, pointing at the computer. "Sam, is there any way you can hack your way to the original meeting protocols stored in the mainframe?"

"I can try." Sam mumbled, and if Castiel had found it troublesome to keep up with the flashing on the screen before, that was nothing compared to what it was now. Sam's hands were a blur over the keys, the sound of fingers tapping and pressing mixing into a long, outdrawn rattle, never stopping, never hesitating, the rapid swirl of colors and letters on the screen reflecting themselves in the mirror of the young man's eyes.

Then suddenly the finger's stopped rapping over the keyboard and Sam let out a disappointed 'Oh'.

"What's wrong?" Castiel leaned in even further and looked at the screen, trying desperately to make out the code there, but he would probably have had better luck understanding ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.

"It's a time lock." Sam said, and it almost peeved Castiel off that the other sounded so impressed.

"What does that mean?" Gabriel asked, coming in to lean over Sam's other shoulder.

"It means that after you enter the first code to unlock the mainframe storage you have a specific timeframe where you must type in the second code. If you override the set out time the entire system locks down and then you're going to need an administrator's code to unlock it again."

Castiel scowled.

"I thought you already hacked into the mainframe, don't you have it?"

"I kind of slipped in through the back door when no one was looking." He said apologetically. "I'm doing a B&E here; I don't have a master key to the rooms inside… Besides, once the system locks down it sends out a message of attempted breach to every computer in the entire network, shutting _everything_ down. Zachariah will spot us before we even get halfway."

"I see…" Castiel straightened up and rubbed his hand over his brow, sighing. "So I suppose we'll need the two codes then?"

"Yeah, basically." Sam nodded affirmatively.

"Can you hack them?"

Sam shook his head.

"No. There's too much security. They will know what I'm up to the moment I launch the key breaker."

Castiel held back a groan, but before he had the time to start pacing Sam added;

"But I know someone who can help."

"Who?"

Sam shifted in his seat, suddenly looking as if he regretted bringing it up.

"Sam, who?" Gabriel prompted and Sam's eyes darted to the floor.

"Ash…" he mumbled and Gabriel's eyebrows shot up.

"_Ash_?" he asked and then looked up at Castiel, who must have looked as clueless as he felt because he then turned back to Sam once more. "You're not talking about "I-built-a-cooling-fan-out-of-beer-cans-and-a-rubber-band-because-it-went-faster-than-going-out-to-buy-a-new-one"-Ash, are you?"

"Actually," Sam squirmed. "Yeah… I am."

"Awesome." Gabriel shot Castiel a sideward glance. "Oh, he's going to looove you." He cooed and Castiel frowned.

"What about me?" he demanded gruffly.

"He's a natural born Anarchist." Sam provided. "He despises authority. He's going to hate you."

"That's of course until he finds out that you're actually rebelling against the entire system." Gabriel added. "Then you're going to have to listen to him yap about every single thing he hates about the world whether you like it or not."

"You've met this person?" Cas asked and Gabriel shrugged.

"Once or twice. We get along well." The dread darkening Castiel's features at that must have been evident because he added; "Don't worry. Once he finds out that you're a traitor he'll take to you like a duck to water."

"I feel calmer already." Castiel retorted dryly, shifting his gaze to Sam. "Can he be trusted?" he asked simply.

"Yes." Sam deadpanned without a second of hesitation and Castiel nodded.

"Good. Then call him up."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Sorry Sam, this deal is a no go."

"There must be a way." Sam objected, but Ash just snorted at him, rocked back on Sam's kitchen chair and folded his arms behind his head.

"Oh there's a way, but I ain't taking it. Too risky." He shrugged. "Sorry, dude."

"You're the one who got me digging into this in the first place," Sam pointed out sharply. "Yesterday the thought about hacking into the mainframe was something you considered to be cool, but today you're saying it's too dangerous?"

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" Ash snapped, "I know this thing you've found is a big deal and I'm all for snooping around and shit, but this… Fuck, this is _too_ big, you know what I'm saying?"

"So you're just going to sit there and do nothing?" Sam snarled, but before he got any further Castiel interrupted them from the other side of the table.

"What is this risk that you're talking about?" he wondered, gravelly voice cutting through their squabble like a hot knife through butter.

"It would be easier to explain the things that _weren't_ risky." Ash huffed out, but when Castiel just tilted his head expectedly at him he sighed, straightening up. "Alright, so the mainframe is kind of like a house, and each cluster of storage space inside is like a room. Inside each room there are boxes stacked, floor to ceiling. Inside one or more of those boxes are the files you want. You with me so far?"

Castiel nodded and Ash looked pleased with his silent confirmation.

"Okay, now imagine that every room in the house has a door with two locks that opens with two separate strings of code, like passwords or keys, but more complicated. The first one is the main access key, the other is an individual key that's been designed for each separate door." Cas nodded once more, showing that he understood.

"So what happens when you punch in the first password is that a countdown starts. If you haven't entered the second password before the time runs out, the alarm goes off and the entire mainframe goes into isolation. That means that if we fail, we will be trapped inside; all our information, our IP addresses, our hacking software, everything will be frozen meaning that they will be able to track it back to us. Now I've heard about the guys Zachariah has hired to do server maintenance – we do _not_ want them to realize that we've been there. They will hunt us to the end of the world and back until they catch us."

"How long is the time span to enter the second password?" Castiel asked.

"30 seconds." Ash grimaced. "There's no way in hell my hacking software can break the code during that time. I need two minutes, or at least one full."

"Wouldn't it be easier if we already had the codes?" Gabriel asked from his claimed spot on top of the kitchen counter and Ash turned to him with a condescending eye roll.

"Yes, Einstein, it would, but unless you can snap your fingers and pull them out of thin air, there's no way we're getting them."

"No need to be rude, Blondie, I was just asking." Gabe muttered.

"Who has the codes?" Cas demanded, interrupting the quarrel before it got out of hand.

"The server technician, the network administrators in New York and of course Zachariah himself." Ash listed and Cas sighed, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

"Is there any way for us to get to them?" he asked. "Any way at all?"

Ash threw his hands out in a gesture that could have been both a yes and a no.

"You could always steal Zach's computer I guess." He suggested. "But the moment it's reported missing it will also lock down from the server. We will never be able to extract the codes in time."

Castiel sighed and pushed himself up from the table and began pacing back and forth, hands once again defiantly perched on his hips. This was no good. He had hoped that Sam's friend would be able to help them, but the situation had just turned even more impossible. This was never going to work.

"Wait a minute."

He snapped his head up at the sound of Sam's voice.

"So the codes are stored on Zachariah's computer?" he asked and Ash made a grunting, affirmative sound in response. "So all we really need is access to his hard rive, right?"

"Dude," Ash snorted, "you won't be able to sneak yourself any desk-time in the Big Guy's office if that's what you think." But Sam ignored him, and Castiel could literally see the cogs turning in the young man's head, enthusiasm glowing in his eyes.

"No, no, listen. You remember that virus I gave you? The one with the-"

"Vividly, thank you." Ash interrupted with a glare.

"Anyway," Sam continued, ignoring the other's tone, "Before I gave you that, I put another Trojan in your computer."

"Another one?! God damn it, Winchester, do you have any-?"

"Drop it, Ash," Sam snapped, "the point is; I could use that Trojan to access your computer completely undetected, even when you were working on it. Like invisible remote control."

"You're starting to get creepy with me Sam." Ash grimaced, but Castiel was listening intently, suspecting where Sam was heading with this.

"Go on, Sam." he urged and Sam shrugged.

"I was just thinking, if we gave that virus to Zachariah's computer, then sneaking in and find the codes would be easy. He wouldn't even know we were there."

Gabriel chuckled from his corner, beaming like a sun.

"Looks like I landed the _smart_ brother." He mused, chuckling again when Castiel glared at him from across the kitchen, hiding the wink he sent his way by taking another bite out of his candy bar. No one else seemed to take any notice of his poorly hidden pun, but at this point neither Sam nor Ash seemed to be listening to the munching man at all.

"Great!" Ash exclaimed, though sounding nothing like the enthusiasm the word withheld. "Then let's plant the virus."

"Uh, it's not that easy actually…" Sam squirmed.

"And why the hell not?"

"It's too big to be planted. It has to be installed manually to work."

"Meaning we still need the computer?" Castiel asked and Sam nodded.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well then, back to square one." Ash groaned, but behind them Gabriel had suddenly gotten a thoughtful look on his face.

"Hey, hey, not so fast, Bucko." He turned to Sam. "This Trojan of yours, how hard is it to install?"

"Not at all. You double click the icon, answer "yes" and it's running."

Gabriel licked his lips, giving the lower a light nibble with his teeth and then he nodded to himself.

"I'll do it."

"Do what?" Castiel asked, eyes narrowing at his sibling and Gabriel shrugged.

"I'll plant the virus. All you have to do is get me inside that SOB's office and you'll have your codes in no time."

"We can't just let you waltz right in there." Sam objected, "There's cameras and security. If you get caught you could end up in jail."

Gabriel threw his arms out.

"Then give me a reason to be there."

"You don't even _work_ at Edenstar, Gabe!" Sam exclaimed, "What reason could you _possibly_ have to be inside the CEO's office?"

Castiel almost missed the look his brother sent his way, lips curling into a lewd grin before the hazel eyed man turned back to Sam.

"Dean." He said simply and Castiel's heart came to a screeching halt inside his chest.

"Dean?" he grated out, the name sticking to the roof of his mouth like a piece of toffee.

"Yup." Gabriel confirmed and Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Castiel intercepted him.

"We're not dragging him into this." He declared with a stern look at Gabriel's face. "I'll go with you."

"Yeah, and if we get caught you'll lose your job." Gabriel snorted. "No way, bro. Dean's already been cut lose, they can't do anything to him and as Sam said, I don't even work there."

"They'll throw you both in jail." Castiel pointed out, but Gabriel wasn't listening, turning towards Sam instead.

"Sam, I can pull this off. All I need is a little help from your brother."

Cas glared at Gabriel, trying to mentally convey the gory images of all the possible ways he would be able to murder him, but it didn't seem to work as Gabriel continued to ignore him, focusing completely on Sam who in turn was looking at Gabriel, perhaps not as hesitant as Castiel would have liked him too, but still skeptic.

"I don't know man…" he sighed, "Dean is probably not the best person to get involved in this right now. I mean, you saw him, all it takes is for someone to mention that place and he goes berserk."

Gabriel pointed at him, snapping his fingers in affirmation.

"Bingo! And that's why we need him!"

"Gabe…" Sam did not seem convinced, but his pleading fell upon deaf ears and Castiel wanted to beat his sibling hard over the head in vengeance when the bastard pulled out the boyfriend-card and waved it around like a fucking free pass when he tilted his head and gave Sam the most heartbreaking set of puppy eyes Castiel had seen in his entire life.

"Baby…" he begged, "Please, _trust me_ on this."

Castiel could almost hear the sound of Sam's defenses crumbling to the ground, a wall of resolve and determination rendered nothing but a smoldering heap of dust and gravel that left the poor man in pieces. It was those brown eyes fault, Castiel seethed; those stupid, golden, shines-like-the-fucking-sun-and-burns-like-amber eyes. There were times when Castiel wished he could wield that same power over someone simply because of his eye color, but he was stuck with these ridiculous, boring blue ones instead, given, they were _very_ blue, but he still didn't think they were special. Not like Gabriel's were, which proved itself clearly in the way Sam's posture softened, muscles relaxing and how he then drew breath to the words Castiel knew would be his death sentence:

"What did you have in mind?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_Me = Dead._

_I hate interlude-chapters; they're so boring to write xD_

_But never mind, next chapter will get better, I promise, and I apologize about the cliffhanger, again._

_Also, a big shout out to all of you who have been sending me reviews (repeatedly even) requesting the next chapter, you've really kept me inspired to finish this pain in the ass passage. In the author's note following here I'll explain everything to why it has taken me so long, you are all welcome to read it. In the mean time I'd like to send you all a big, big hug and an enormous amount of love!_


	9. READ AFTER CHAPTER 8! (Authors note)

The reasons to why this chapter took so godforsaken long to post:

As a few of you might already know, or suspect, I attended Gishwhes this year.

I had lots of fun and made a whole bunch of new friends that I would never ever want to be without ever again, and when I meet Misha at A10 in May I'm going to thank him from the bottom of my heart with a butt slap or two for giving them to me XD

So there's one week straight down the drain as far as writing goes, but that's not what I'm writing to tell you.

The main reason to why I've had such a hard time writing lately is that I was given my notice at work last week. So as from December 13th I do not have a job anymore. Which sucks majorly because I really love my job and my coworkers, but since my company can't "afford" to keep me then this is the way it's going to be.

In reality I'm losing my job because my boss is a dick, and it might sound bitter and petty, but I've actually had people come up to me an congratulating me for getting a chance to get out. He's not a very nice person; he's been in my office yelling at me about seven or six times this week and it's only Wednesday…

To be honest, the way my errand was handled by the company was bad, really, really bad, and the union has been involved too. So this story, Hot Water, writing about how Dean got fired for no other reason than the company attempting to save money for themselves… it's been hitting a little too close to home for me to feel inspired writing about it.

Now the issue has been settled however; the union and my boss have come to an agreement and all is well even though I'm still getting fired, so now I'm back to writing as usual again, unless something else comes up.

So there you have it. I know some of you have been worried that I'd abandoned writing, and I just wanted to let you know that absolutely not. I love writing, I wouldn't survive without writing and I'm following this through. You've all sent me such heartwarming messages and reviews, and they have helped me so, so much during this time, I can't even begin to explain how deeply they have affected me. It's almost a physical pain in my heart when I can't respond to you because you've written anonymously or when you have your PM disabled because I want you to know how much your enthusiasm means to me. So to each and every one of you; thank you so very, very, very much, I am so incredibly grateful for every single word you have written.

I will try to keep the updated coming, but there's going to be a bit of job search related things that I'll have to deal with, but I'm sure you'll understand.

So once again; thank you my darlings!

(this note will be replaced by the next chapter of Hot Water once it's finished, I hope the site will still send out a notification to you when it's done. I'll do my best to make it happen so you dont't miss out on anything. If you have tumblr you can also see my blog there for updates, it's the same as my pen name here.)


	10. Chapter 9

Cas was locked in Sam's bathroom, altering between pacing impatiently over the plush bathroom mat and grappling around the porcelain sink with both hands, staring at his own terrified reflection in the mirror with a growing sense of nausea rolling around the pit of his stomach. Outside the door he could hear the low murmur of Ash, Sam and Gabriel as they went over the plan one more time while they waited for Dean to arrive and yes, Dean was on his way to Sam's apartment right now, perhaps already walking up the staircase outside and the pure notion of that knowledge made Castiel feel like crawling up into a ball on the floor and die right there. Any second now he would be ringing the doorbell, or simply walk straight through the front door if it wasn't unlocked, and then Castiel would have to share the same air as him for God knew how long unless he killed himself silently in here first!

Gabriel had been right of course, they needed Dean for the plan to work, and it was a good plan once you got over how downright _mad_ it was, but god damnit how was Cas supposed to have known when he agreed to this that Sam would pick up the phone and order his brother over here _tonight_?!

He pulled his hands through his hair for the millionth time during the last twenty minutes he had been bunked up inside the confined, tiled space and resisted the urge to groan loudly to the ceiling. What was he supposed to do?! He couldn't go back out there once Dean arrived, he just couldn't, but it wasn't like he would be able to leave now either without causing suspicion and right now he did NOT want to attract more attention to himself by making Sam's inhumane spider-senses tingle. The minutes he had spent with Dean in the garage had been awkward enough and so incredibly insane it was hardly believable and getting out of there had been a relief without comparison, but now he was about to get thrown head first from the ashes and into the fire! He had absolutely no idea how Dean was going to react once they revealed the plan to him. Sam had only told him to come over because he had a surprise for him; he hadn't mentioned that Ash, Gabe or Castiel would all be part of said surprise and considering the circumstances to which Dean and himself had parted a few hours ago Castiel was not entirely sure about how his presence here would be welcomed.

Tearing his eyes away from his reflection he turned on the faucet, splashing cold water over his face in an attempt to shock some common sense into his system, but it didn't seem to work as well as it did in the movies… Blue eyes, wide and panicky still stared back at him from the mirror when he looked up and he swallowed hard, his throat feeling like sandpaper as it struggled to work down whatever amount of saliva his mouth could manage.

Dean would be here any second now, he would walk into the apartment and he would spot him and demand to be told what he was doing there and Castiel would be forced to talk and then Dean would hear who he was for sure and then-

A loud rapping on the bathroom door ripped a startled gasp out of his throat and he spun around, half expecting it to be Dean's voice calling out to him next. Needless to say, it wasn't.

"Hey Cassie, how's it going in there? You setting up camp or what?"

Castiel leaned back heavily against the sink, his momentary relief that it was not Dean disappearing just as quickly as it had arrived.

"I'm fine, Gabriel." He managed and there was a moment of silence from the other side.

"You sure? Because you seem a little… I don't know…" Gabriel's voice lowered into a conspiring whisper, or at least it would have been had it not sounded so incredibly _loud_. "Nervous. I mean, had I known Sam would call your lover boy over right this instant I would've-hey, easy on the threads!"

Cas had opened the door in the middle of Gabriel's speech and pulled him inside by the collar of his shirt, locking the door swiftly behind them before he whirled around to face his brother.

"What the hell am I supposed to do, Gabriel!?" he hissed. "You think I seem nervous? Nervous doesn't even _begin_ to cover the things I am right now!"

"Hey, hey, whoa," Gabriel's hands came up towards him, palms out as if he was trying to appease a boisterous horse. "Calm down, Cassie."

"I am _not_ going to calm down!" Castiel snapped through gritted teeth. "Dean is going to be here any second and when he sees me or _hears_ me, I'm a dead man!"

"You don't know that." Gabriel objected. "You spent almost twenty minutes with him earlier today and that went well, right? If I remember correctly he was going beyond checking you out too, getting all touchy-feely with those grease stained hands of his." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him and Castiel's mind immediately went to the trench coat currently folded over the back of one of Sam's kitchen chairs, remembering how the feel of Dean's hand on his shoulder almost had his knees buckling from the sheer heat of it, but then he also recalled the rigid square of Dean's back when the Winchester told him to leave and he ducked his head in avoidance.

"You weren't there." He mumbled. "You didn't see the way he acted after you left."

"Then I suppose you better tell me about it." Gabriel swaggered across the bathroom mat and sat down on the edge of the bath tub, resolutely folding his arms over his chest.

"Gabriel, we don't have time-"

"I don't give a crap if we have time or not." Gabriel cut off. "You want my help then you better tell me what the heck is going on and if that means that your boyfriend is going to see us leave the bathroom together, then so be it."

Castiel tried glaring at him, but the look in Gabriel's eyes quickly informed him that it wouldn't do much to help.

"Fine." He grumbled sourly, "I'll tell you, but you better not make fun of me."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Gabriel promised, and Cas decided not to comment so instead he started talking, going back to the moment where Gabriel had left him and Dean alone in the auto shop. Gabriel listened intently, but when Castiel reached the spot where Dean had begun wiping his hands off there had been an almost sadistic sparkle in his brother's eyes that no glare from Castiel's blue ones could chase away. He did not mention the toy packed inside his trunk, there was no reason for Gabriel to hear about that, but he had to explain the reason to Tiger's nickname for him when he got to the almost-kiss they had shared inside the car and when he finished Gabriel looked as if he was going to burst out giggling at any second, causing Castiel's ears to heat up from embarrassment.

"Bro…" Gabriel bit down on his lower lip, stifling a chuckle. "The dude's so far gone into this Blue-guy he can't even _walk_ straight."

"Exactly." Cas slumped down onto the toilet seat, letting his head roll back to thud quietly against the wall. "He's into Blue. Not me."

"But you're the same _person_!" Gabriel groaned loudly.

"Yes, and when he finds _that_ out he's going to be pissed. I showed up at his garage, Gabe! And now I'm suddenly at his brother's place too? He's going to think that I've been stalking him!"

"I'm the one who dragged your ass to Bobby's in the first place. And then I dragged it here too; you have the perfect alibi, bro!"

"Oh really?" Cas glowered accusingly. "And this plan of yours to use him in order to take down Zachariah? That's not going to look even the slightest suspicious to him?"

"Cas, the guy's fallen for you so hard he left a fucking crater!" Gabriel insisted. "Don't you see it? He's so far gone he wouldn't be able to find his way back with a map and compass!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the door. "I swear, if you don't man up and tell the poor sap who you are, then so help me God, I will."

"You will do no such thing." Castiel snapped.

"Then what do you suggest?" Gabe glowered. "You're going to cower in here all night? Hide in the bathtub, what?"

"I don't know!"

"Then why not come clean?! Stop this before it gets even worse and just Tell. Him. Who. You. Are!"

"Gabe-…"

"Don't 'Gabe' me!" Gabriel stood up and Castiel resisted the urge to flinch as his brother took a step forward, hazel eyes firm and unyielding. "Now you listen to me," he ordered "You're going to get a grip, straighten up, walk out there and you're going to deliver this plan like you were mother fucking Johnny Ocean and sweep that guy off his feet with a display of raw, dominating authority, do you understand me?"

Castiel's eyes widened.

"You can't expect _me_ to be the one who tells him about this?" he choked, but Gabriel ignored his protests and instead focused on straightening out the crinkles in his brother's suit jacket.

"Of course I do."

"It's _your_ plan, _you_ deliver! Gabe, he's going to-"

"Don't worry, if he didn't recognize you at Bobby's then it's a pretty slim chance he will now."

"No. Gabriel, no. I can't-"

"Either you walk them through the plan, or I spill Dean the whole story the very moment he walks through that door." Gabriel warned silently and Castiel's entire body went deadly cold.

"You don't mean that," he tried, but he knew the look on his brother's face well enough to realize that, oh yes, he did. Gabriel shook his head mournfully, moving on to adjust Castiel's tie, but not straightening or pull it tighter, but loosening it and undoing the top button of his shirt.

"There, a little hint of skin." He mused, obviously pleased with himself before growing serious again. "It's embarrassing that I have to resort to threats just to get you laid, bro."

"You're unbelievable." Castiel muttered, but his insult went by unnoticed.

"Don't sweat it." Gabriel assured him. "The worst thing that can happen is that yes, he recognizes you, but even if he does there's no need for you to tell him that you've recognized him first. Let him drop the bomb if it scares you so much."

"I can't lie to him," Cas gritted out and Gabriel shrugged, making a few experimental adjustments to the white collar in his hands.

"Then don't." he suggested indifferently, but Castiel's hands shot up and clasped around his wrists, halting the hands in their ministrations.

"Gabriel…" he begged. "Please…"

Gabriel looked at him, and for a moment Castiel expected him to swat his hands away and tell him to stop being such a child, but instead he just sighed tiredly and tilted his head slightly to the side.

"You really are pathetic little pup, Cassie, you know that?"

"Trust me, I am aware," Castiel muttered silently before grimacing, "And stop calling me Cassie; it's a girl's name."

"Judging by your behavior right now, I'd say it's suitable." Gabriel quipped back but, then he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sighing once more. "Alright, you win. I'll do the talking; you just sit back and enjoy the view."

"Thank you." Castiel's grip tightened around Gabriel's hands in an additional display of gratitude before letting go, the relief alone causing him to feel lightheaded and dizzy.

"Don't thank me. " The look Gabriel gave him was almost agonized. "Just try to keep your hands out of your pants while he's here, alright?"

Castiel glared at him, but Gabriel just smirked and gave his shoulder a light pat the same moment the doorbell rang on the other side of the door.

"And there's the signal." He beamed as he whirled his younger sibling around and shoved him towards the door. "It's Showtime, brother."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Castiel rounded the corner to the living room just as Sam closed the front door and his initial reaction at the sight of Dean standing right there in the hallway was to turn around and dive head first back into the bathroom, but then he felt Gabriel's arm clench threateningly were it was still wrapped around his elbow and immediately abandoned the thought. He had no idea if Gabriel would drag him out from his hiding _before_ or _after_ he revealed Cas' true identity to Dean, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would end up doing both if he didn't get his act together within the following five seconds. He straightened up and felt the vice around his arm ease up and give an encouraging squeeze before pushing him further into the room and letting go. The motion of Castiel's brief stumble caught Dean's attention and the other male's brow drew together in a short moment of confusion when he spotted him before his eyes widened in recognition. Cas would have given anything not to be there when Dean turned back towards Sam, his jaw clenched tight and with a voice that was just short that of a growl.

"What are they doing here?" he demanded grimly and Sam shrugged.

"I called them."

Dean's shoulders seemed to relax slightly at that, but when he turned back to Cas his eyes were as hard as ever and Cas had to avert his own gaze to the backrest of the couch that through some unknown force had ended up clutched in his hands, blood pounding so hard in his head he was sure he was going to faint. He knew this had been a bad idea and his entire body was screaming at him to just find an excuse and get the hell out of there before it got even worse, but then Gabriel swaggered out from behind his back and threw himself in a nearby lounging chair, beaming his best shit-eating grin towards the man by the door.

"Relax, Deano." He gleamed, "We're all friends here."

"Bite me, Gabriel." Dean snarled back before returning his attention to his own brother. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded and Sam turned to Castiel with an awkward shrug.

"You wanna start?" he asked and it took Cas' all not to squirm straight out of his own skin when the cold stare of Dean's eyes was directed towards him once more.

"I think…" he started, clearing his throat from the treacherous squeak that threatened to sneak it's way into his voice and focused all his attention on Sam in a valiant attempt to shove Dean's presence out of his field of vision. "I think it would be better if you began by telling him how you first found out." he suggested quietly and Dean's glare lightened up, confused eyes flickering between the two.

"Found out what?" he asked, but Sam ignored him.

"Yeah, well… Ash's the one who told me about it to begin with so I guess it'd be better if he went first?"

"Ash?" Dean squinted, now completely lost in translation.

"Here!" Ash's hand shot up behind the laptop, the universal sign for rock'n'roll marking out his position behind the mountain of papers stacked on the kitchen table.

"Another one?" Dean winced. "How many people did you stash in here?"

"It's just us." Sam assured him. "We can't risk anyone else finding out."

"Find out _what_?" Dean was all but yelling now. "Could someone _please_ tell what the hell is going on here?!"

"Ash?" Sam called out and Ash's head poked out from the chaos of papers in response.

"Yeah?"

"Tell them what Jo said when you talked to her that time in the storage closet."

Ash's face clouded over a little.

"Hey, can't a man have some privacy?" he grumbled. "I mean, that conversation was a bit-"

"About the _files_, Ash." Sam sighed and Ash lightened up.

"Oh… Then why he the hell didn't you just say so?"

"_What files_?!" Dean wailed to the ceiling and from the chair Gabriel let out a barking laugh and unceremoniously threw his feet up on the table.

"Take a seat Dean." He mused, eyes sparkling. "This is going to take a while…"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"…and that is basically the plan." Gabriel ended with a twirl of his wrist; still lying sprawled out leisurely on the recliner seat, one leg swung over the edge of the arm rest like some sort of spoiled rotten royalty. Dean was staring at him, brow raised in disbelief and jaw dropped somewhere by his knees. Castiel was sitting in the couch opposite to him, doing his very best to keep his eyes where they belonged and Sam was shifting on his feet behind Dean, looking as expectantly as a child who had just revealed the most fantastic surprise ever and was now anxiously awaiting the response.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, eyes bright and ecstatic.

Dean turned slowly on his seat, giving him the most incredulous look Castiel had ever seen in his life.

"_That's_ your plan?" Dean winced and Sam's brow knotted in a frown.

"Well… yeah, I… suppose."

"And you want me to do it with _him_?" Dean pointed his thumb towards Gabe, who threw out his hands in feigned resignation as if asking what the problem was about him. "And what about you, fancypants?" Dean continued, turning to look straight at Castiel, "what are you supposed to be doing? Write encouraging post-its and bring us coffee?"

Castiel felt a sharp pang go off inside his chest at the words and he must have looked more hurt by the sudden assault than he would have liked because before he even had the chance to come up with an answer Gabriel had already intercepted him.

"Cas is giving us valuable intel about Zachariah's schedule and the layout of his office." He provided firmly. "He has access to areas we must know of before hand and we need him to pull this off."

"Oh yeah, that's right, because he's a _member of the board_." Dean said sweetly, pronouncing the position as if it left a sour taste in his mouth and Gabriel's face immediately went dark.

"I thought we had already cleared the fact that Castiel had nothing to do with you losing your job." He pointed out sharply.

"According to him." Dean retorted, still deceivingly calm.

"You're calling my brother a liar?" Gabriel asked and Dean smirked, eyes narrowing as if in challenge.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He quipped, causing Gabriel's eyes to cloud over and Castiel's lungs drew tight in his chest. It was like watching your father fight with your boyfriend, only in this case Gabriel wasn't his father and Dean was… well, he wasn't really sure what Dean was right now. He glanced at the pair as they glared at each other across the living room table and tried to keep his fingers from fidgeting with the fabric of his tie. Gabriel's face could have been carved out of stone when he spoke next.

"Now you listen to me you ignorant prick." He snarled. "Cas is here because he's trying to help you. We are _all_ trying to help you."

"Well I don't want any help from you." Dean snapped. "Did any of you even stop to think about that? That just _maybe_ I don't want my lame ass job back!"

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and Gabriel opened his mouth to say something else, most likely something that would need a PG-rating, but this time it was Sam who spoke first.

"Stop bullshitting, Dean." He deadpanned. "If you're not upset about your job then why the hell do you spend your days in Bobby's garage smashing up cars like you were being paid to do so?"

"That's none of your business." Dean bit back and Castiel's fingers gripped the armrest of the sofa a little bit harder, but the snappy comeback didn't do much to throw Sam off track.

"Oh, I think it is." He insisted. "You're hiding something, what is it?"

"You know what, I don't have to sit here and listen to this." Dean shot up from his seat, ignoring Sam's pleading eyes.

"Dean-…"

"Dean, sit down." Gabriel sighed, but Dean pretended that he didn't hear him and instead gave his own sibling a sharp look.

"We'll talk about this later." He snapped from under his breath, a promising threat weaving into the words before he stared heading towards the door.

"Dean..." Gabriel growled, but Dean still ignored him and from his place in the couch Castiel could literally hear the sharp sound of his older brother's patience snap.

"I said s_it down!_"

Gabriel's voice rang out through the apartment like a shard of ice hitting the floor. Ash's rapping in the keyboard abruptly stopped and Sam flinched as if he had been shot while Castiel remained silent in his chair, studying the scene that he knew would unfold with cautious eyes, because he _knew_ that voice. No matter size, gender, job or social status; when Gabriel used _that_ voice on you, you did as you were told. So to him it wasn't all that surprising that Dean stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders tense like a child prepared for a good scolding before he slowly, yet very reluctantly returned to his seat with a fierce glare at the shorter man which spoke louder than any obscenities in the world. Gabriel met it calmly, still casually flung into his chair, but with eyes like hardened amber that did not in any way echo his relaxed body language. Castiel had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to keep himself from smiling at the sight because it was like watching a movie with someone who hadn't seen it before, knowing what was about to happen and trying not to let it show; the fact that he found the situation to be even mildly entertaining to begin with standing as solid proof of how mentally exhausted he was.

Dean and Gabriel was still glaring dagger's at each other, engaged in a silent wrestling match of will that seemed to suck the air out of the room, and when Gabriel finally spoke Castiel almost expected blue bolts of lightning to clash over their heads.

"Frankly," he said, and his voice was hard and foreboding as the quiet rumble of thunder in the distance. "I don't care why you're smashing cars or snapping at your brother like a fox in a trap; I don't care if you want your job back or not. What I _do_ care about, however, is the fact that _you_ don't seem to care about what's really going on here. What happened to you will happen to someone else; someone who doesn't have cars to smash or brothers to worry over them and you're going to just let that pass?" He snorted, eyeing the other male up and down with a look that balanced on the edge to disgust. "Honestly, from what Sam told me about you, I expected more."

"Listen," Dean growled out, leaning forward in his seat. "I _care_, okay? But the plan you knuckleheads got worked out here? It's suicidal! You're talking about _company breach_ - at _Edenstar_! We'd be better off just smashing the guy's head in compared to what will happen if they catch us!"

"_If_ they catch us." Sam pointed out soberly. "Which they won't if you just work with us on this."

Dean stared at Sam as if he had just stabbed him in the back and Castiel fought the sudden urge he had to fidget with a loose seam on the cuff of his shirt. Witnessing arguments between family members had never gone down well with him and at the moment he was sitting smack down in the middle of a sibling fight, not able, nor expected to do anything but listening to the two men argue and it made his skin crawl and his fingers to move restlessly over whatever he got his hands on. The white thread sticking up from his clothing was relentlessly screaming for attention and he would have ripped it out and probably ruined his entire shirt if Dean had not suddenly sighed, the tired sound of breath leaving lungs revealing that he was running low on valid arguments.

"You guys are mental." He muttered, finally. "This _plan_ is fucking mental!"

"Exactly." Gabriel smirked, "and that's why it's going to work – nobody is expecting it."

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, eyes darting between the four of them and Castiel could feel his entire insides shake when his eyes made contact with Dean's, even if their shared gaze didn't last longer than a split second. Dean sighed again, dragging the palms of his hands over his face, rubbing the short stubble on his chin and then he straightened up.

"Fine. I'll do it." He raised a finger when Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, silencing him before he shifted, pointing the finger to Sam. "I'm in." he repeated. "As long as he stays out."

"What?!" Sam gaped from behind him, but Dean didn't as much as grant him a look, still with his eyes firmly set on Gabriel.

"If we go in and they catch us," he continued. "Then I don't want them to be able to trace any of this shit back to him, is that understood?" This time Sam actually let out a full on squawk.

"You can't just decide to keep me out of this!" he protested loudly, but Dean only shook his head.

"Oh, I can, you just watch me." He promised and Sam seemed to grow at least five inches where he stood, puffing up like he was expecting there to be a fight.

"I'm a grown man, Dean." He growled, "I can make these calls myself."

"Ash can handle the computer on his own. " Dean quipped. "You're _replaceable_ Sam; I'm not. You need me for this, you said so yourself."

"Dean, I'm not going to just let you-"

"Yes, you are!" Dean cut him off with a hard glare over his shoulder.

"No, I'm _not_!" Sam snapped back. "Damnit, Dean, what's the matter with you?!"

Dean's jaw clenched, lips forming a thin, stubborn line, but he held his brother's gaze with the same intensity as before and from the back of Castiel's head, from somewhere seemingly ages ago he heard Tiger's voice, hoarse and weak as if it had been screaming for hours;

_They threatened my brother, okay…_

And that's when he made a decision.

"Alright." He said, voice firm, blue eyes rising from the floor towards the arguing duo. "Sam, you're out."

"Now, hold on just a minute!"

"We need him more than we need you." Castiel deadpanned. "It's not an injustice; it's the truth." He turned to Dean, steeling himself in order to look him in the eye as he said; "and we only get one chance."

Dean met his gaze, still the most greenest green even in the dusk of the apartment and it was amazing how Castiel could suppress the shivers those eyes caused to run through his body. He was aware that Sam was now arguing loudly, trying to gain some form of agreement from Gabriel, but Cas didn't listen. Dean's eyes stayed locked on his, and for a few heart stopping seconds it was as if the rest of the world drifted away, the colors and sounds blurring out of focus and all that existed was the subtle shifts of the muscles of Dean's face. Dean was crumbling, even if his poker face was as stern as ever. Cas could tell. He could hear it in the rhythm of his breathing, the way he dragged the air in through his nose and then let it out the same way. The air seemed to thicken as their eyes met, the silence between them carrying an entire conversation that only the two of them could hear; A pleading look earning a warning clench of a jaw, a barely noticeable nod, the deepening of a frown responded by a subtle tilt of the head,

_Dean, please…_

_If anything happens to him I swear to god-_

_He will be safe. I promise._

_Why do you care so much about this?_

_Does it matter?_

It all happened so fast, so natural as if they had always communicated this way and whatever it was that they were doing it must have caught Dean off guard because suddenly he broke eye contact with a shaky breath and settled back in his chair, gaze firmly locked on the coffee table in front of him.

"Alright," he said, clearing his throat before looking back at Gabriel. "I get how we're going to get inside, and I get how we're supposed to get to the codes, but what I don't understand is how we're supposed to get back out again in once piece without getting our bones jumped by the security guards. I'm sure you're a lovely room mate, but I don't want to go to prison."

Gabriel shrugged and Dean's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"That's it?" he asked and Gabriel shrugged again, causing Dean's jaw to drop. "Wait, so you mean that we're supposed to burst in there, guns blazing and then what; we're just gonna Jedi our way out?"

Castiel snorted out an involuntary laugh, because the mental image of his brother pulling an Obi-Wan Kenobi on a pair of bouncer-looking security guards was more than a little bit hilarious; the fact that Gabriel loathed the movies with a close to fiery passion only adding fuel to the fire.

Something flickered in the depths of Dean's eyes at the sound of him and for a horrifying, breath stealing moment Castiel was convinced that he had been recognized, the panic washing over him like a bucket of ice cold water. He kept staring down at his shoes, pretending that he couldn't feel Dean's eyes on him or how the sweat was starting to break out on the back of his neck again, but then Dean seemed to lose interest and turned back towards Gabriel; the hint of a smile ghosting the corner of his mouth.

"A plan that's not planned, huh?" he concluded and Gabriel nodded.

"Exactly."

Castiel dared a quick flicker at Dean's face, but his attempt of stealth did not go by unnoticed and before he knew it he was caught in a sea of green once more, unable to break away, his breath locking tight inside his chest as did it belong to a drowning man. He wished that Dean would just quit looking at him, that he would turn away, but at the same time he prayed that he would never, ever stop, wanting to stay in that spotlight forever regardless of how naked and exposed it made him feel. Every second, every pounding moment he spent around this man caused the memory of Tiger to fade into something more like a Dream, the real Dean stepping in and filling out all the blanks that was missing, becoming solid and real; a proper person that could be touched, kissed, loved and Castiel would not have it any other way. The prospects alone… Like, he could reach out his hand right now and be able to feel the strong bend of muscles moving underneath Dean's worn old t-shirt and there would be nothing to stop him. Except Dean himself, of course. Dean… who was still looking at him as if Castiel's eyes were riddles he was trying his best to solve and just like that Castiel snapped back to reality, the intensity of Dean's eyes on his face suddenly threatening to burn a hole through his skull. He cleared his throat with a cough that just barely managed to hide the startled sound of a gasp and then quickly excused himself, already halfway out of the couch before he had finished his sentence, fleeing around the corner to the kitchen area and out of sight with legs feeling like dissolving Jell-O under his weight before Dean or anyone else had the chance to respond.

He leaned back heavily against the counter by the sink, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his viciously beating heart. Green eyes dazzled before his inner vision and a desperate, pained wince fell from his lips as he banged his head once against the cupboard behind him. Dean. _Dean, Dean, Dean_; the name was like a mantra inside his head, going on and on and on until his whole body was thrumming with the sound of it, making his blood boil in his veins, Tiger's true name working itself like a drug through his entire system. _Dean, Dean, Dean_… And he was right _here_, right _now_; every inch of him more than Castiel could ever have dreamed to even hope for, and oh God, how did he ever manage to end up here?

The answer to his unspoken question appeared a split second later when Gabriel himself sauntered into the kitchen, wide grin curling into place the moment he spotted his brother's flustered state.

"You doing okay?" he beamed, obviously already knowing what the answer was, and Castiel resisted the urge to do something as obscene as flipping him off for his trouble. Instead he settled with a sigh and turned around to try and locate a glass in one of the cupboards. He heard Gabriel snicker as he walked up behind him.

"So," he said, voice conveying nothing but pure gloating, "You still don't think you'd have a shot with him?"

"What I _think_ is irrelevant." Castiel bit back, closing the cupboard he was currently rummaging through before moving on to the next, but his grim answer didn't seem to put his brother off the slightest.

"Fine, have it your way." He smirked. "All I know is that Captain Jack-off out there is staring at you like a starving man eyeing an all-you-can-eat buffét."

"So he's a cannibal, lovely…" Castiel muttered and then threw the cupboard door closed with a frustrated groan. "H_ow come_ there are no _glasses_ in this kitchen?!" he demanded loudly.

"Top shelf, cupboard to the right." Gabriel assisted and Castiel moved on to the appointed cabinet.

Gabriel watched his younger brother reach up, almost forced to stand on his toes in order to acquire the needed height to get a hand over the edge of the shelf with the mugs and glasses and he snickered at the sight before settling with a serious look on his face.

"You know…" he said silently, making a great deal not to make it sound like an accusation. "I don't wanna sound like a douche, but your lover boy out there seems to have quite the attitude problem."

"He's worried." Castiel muttered with a huff as he managed to hook his finger around the ear of a coffee mug and pulled it out.

"About what? That we'll get caught?" Gabriel scowled.

"About Sam." Castiel turned the tap on in the sink, letting the water swirl down the drain as he patiently waited for it to run cold.

"Sam's an adult." Gabriel snorted. "Shouldn't he be allowed to make decision like that for himself?"

Cas dipped the mug under the flowing stream, filling it up to the brim before turning the sink off and turning towards his brother.

"Their relationship is none of our business." He mumbled, knowing perfectly well what Gabriel thought about people who tried to control other people's lives. "How they sort this out is up to them, but I am sure that if Dean says that Sam should stay out of it, then he probably has a good reason."

He brought the mug up and drank down a few deep gulps of the icy water, feeling the cool of it run down his spine and settle like a comforting pool in his stomach, and when he looked back at his brother Gabriel was staring at him as if Castiel had just solved the riddle behind string theory.

"You know." He stated lowly. "Dean told you something didn't he? In the showers-"

Castiel hushed his brother with a glare and a meaning look at the door to the living room and Gabriel rolled his eyes, but lowered his volume, stepping closer.

"Cas, what's going on?" he asked and this time there was genuine concern in his voice. "Why isn't Sam allowed to go?"

"Gabriel…"

"He's my _boyfriend_, Cas."

There was more weight behind that word than what should normally have been considered justified, but Gabriel didn't need to explain what he mean to Castiel; Castiel knew. Sam was _important_, and Gabriel was not the kind of person who just stood by and allowed the people he found important to get hurt; Cas of all people would know. Cas sighed and shot a final, guarded look in the direction of the living room before he spoke, voice lowered into a whisper that forced Gabriel even closer but still far away enough to keep their eyes locked because it was important that Gabe _understood_.

"When Dean lost his job," Cas started. "Zachariah and his thugs told him to go quietly, or they would get rid of Sam too." Gabriel sucked in an angry breath through his teeth, but Castiel wasn't finished. "If we do this and we fail, then Sam is going to become a target. They are going to go after him, and I know Zachariah, Gabe; he won't settle with simply firing Sam, he's going to make sure he _ruins_ him. _Completely_, do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Gabriel's face was stern, but he nodded once and Cas firmly placed the mug back down on the counter before fixing his brother with a penetrating stare.

"Now we don't know anything about this, do you hear me?" he whispered. "Going by the looks of it Dean has not told Sam about that, and unless you can come up with a damn good explanation to how you found out, we are not going to either. " Gabriel opened his mouth, most likely to object, but Castiel cut him off with a silencing finger. "Gabe, no."

"I don't like it, Cas." Gabriel growled.

"I know." Cas winced. "And once this is all over you can do whatever you want, but until then… Gabriel, please."

Gabriel's teeth gnawed on his bottom lip, seemingly struggling with his decision, but just as he was about to give voice to it Dean came walking around the corner to the kitchen, slamming his hand against the doorframe hard enough to make Cas almost jump out of his skin.

"What are you two gossiping about?" he grinned, stalking up to settle himself in the little corner formed between the two kitchen counters.

"Oh nothing special." Gabe drawled, still with his eyes firmly set on Castiel's. "Just speculating on whether you're going commando under those tight jeans of yours or if you're wearing a thong."

Castiel almost choked on his own breath, but Dean didn't seem to think the question was in any way inappropriate.

"Commando." he responded without missing a beat, confident sarcasm leaking through his words like honey. "I save the silk for special occasions."

"Of course." Gabriel smirked, turning around and crossing his arms over his chest. "Figured you'd be into stuff like that."

"Don't start with the name calling; I've seen the handcuffs and chocolate sauce laying around here you kinky son of a bitch."

"Hey, that's your brother you're talking about." Gabriel warned, but Dean just shrugged.

"Doesn't make it any less kinky."

"I suppose you should know." Gabriel muttered under his breath while giving Castiel a wink over his shoulder, causing the younger man to fixate the floor in between his own feet with alarming intensity. "Speaking of kinks," he then continued, "I better get back out there before Sam and Ash gets lost in another one of their cyber-orgies. I'm all for sharing, but bringing a laptop into the bedroom can get all kinds of awkward if you know what I mean."

He strode past Dean like a man on a mission, but before he exited the kitchen he sent another tell-tale leer in Castiel's direction, mouthing an exaggerated "go get him" before disappearing out of sight.

And so, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, Castiel found himself alone with Dean in a space far too small for his liking and with the far too suggestive images of said Dean in different states of undressed still floating around inside his head. So it was perfectly understandable that when Dean directed his sole attention towards him, Castiel quickly turned back to the counter, picked up his mug once more and hurriedly turned on the tap, cold water rushing out so fast it splattered up the sides of the sink and threatened to drench the front of his shirt. From the corner of his eye he could see Dean lean back against the counter top, hands casually gripping around the edges of the wooden surface with hips jutting out in a way that had Castiel's mouth run dry and he promptly dunked his cup under the spray of water, filling it to the brim.

"So…" he heard the other say, the familiarity of Tiger's voice ringing like a glorious bell in his ears, "a member of the board going darkside, huh? That's new."

Castiel brought the mug to his lips, gulping the liquid down, not answering. He had no words, no plan, no prepared answers for a conversation like this. He could feel Dean's eyes on him like the slow drag of fingers running down his neck and he couldn't bring himself to look up, fixing his gaze past his own nose and on the bottom of the mug.

"Makes a guy wonder." Dean continued, voice suddenly laced with polite suspicion as he watched Castiel empty his drink and put the mug down to refill it once more. "I mean, a high positioned suit like you… what could you possibly have to gain by doing this?"

"Nothing." Castiel answered dryly.

"Nothing?" Dean asked, eyebrows tenting in not even attempted hidden disbelief.

"Yes, nothing." Castiel repeated, bringing the cup up once more.

Dean looked at him, eyes suddenly hard.

"You'll have to excuse the fact that I don't believe you." He said sternly and Castiel nodded, or shook his head, he wasn't sure.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He breathed, silently cursing Sam for not owning bigger coffee mugs as he brought it down to refill it for the third time.

"You're _sorry_? Dean asked incredulously. "That's it? You're not going to try to convince me that you're doing this out of the goodness of your own heart? For the sake of humanity?"

"Would it do any good?" Castiel mumbled, shooting him a glance and Dean shrugged, the corners of his mouth dipping low in a 'meh' sort of way.

"Not really." He admitted.

"Then for what purpose should I waste your time trying?"

"Really?" Dean snorted out. "So you're willing to risk your job, your career, the company car-?"

"I drive my own car, which you already know perfectly well." Castiel glared, a hint of steel slipping into his voice and Dean's jaw shut with a mute snap. That same something from before flashed behind his eyes and Castiel could feel his heart bang a vicious response against his ribcage, that steady beat of _Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean_ that threatened to swallow up his soul like a tidal wave. This quarrel reminded him too much about the fights they used to have in the shower room, the ones that almost always managed to escalate into their own strange form of foreplay and right now Castiel's pulse was already racing, the muscles in his body reacting to the rhythm on pure reflex. He was perfectly aware that the two of them together like this were like a recipe for rough, tearing clothes of, slam against the wall, angry sex; something that his libido didn't seem to have any problem with at the moment, especially not now when Dean's physical presence acted like a lure, pulling him in closer by the second. Dean's lips looked so deliciously soft and every fiber of Cas' body was aching, screaming for the touch of them, for Dean's breath down his lungs, his moans against his skin, his hands on his body… He knew that he shouldn't be staring, knew what a threat it caused to his self control, but he forced himself to keep his eyes locked on Dean's, knowing that if he allowed his gaze to waver now it would only look suspicious considering the conversation they were having. Another contributing factor of course being that if he allowed it to settle on any other part of Dean Winchester's body right now he wasn't all that sure that he would be able to control himself...

Years passed; decades, minutes, eons and seconds, all of it jumbled up inside the intensity of the other's eyes and then Dean suddenly straightened, some of his hostility falling away and there it was; the same glimmer of golden green that Cas had seen earlier in that garage, like an emerald lit up from within by a mirthfully, flickering candle.

"Okay." Dean agreed, his entire body suddenly going lax against the counter. "If you say so."

Castiel did not dare look away, painfully aware of the still very provocative stance the other was in, the subtle jut of hipbones looking sharp enough to cut through the denim covering them and his grip around the mug in his hand tightened to the point where the fact that the piece remained intact was a freaking miracle, a thought which made him realize that the water was still running wildly in the sink and he quickly shut it off, putting the cup down on the counter.

"Does that mean that you believe me?" he asked quietly and Dean sent a smile his way that made his entire insides squirm.

"Ain't like I have much of a choice is there?"

This made Castiel look up, catching on to the little exasperated tone in the other's voice and his brow furrowed.

"There's always a choice, Dean."

Dean threw a sideward glance into the living room where Sam and Ash were going over some things on the laptop while Gabriel was trying his best to get comfy in the leftover space of the sofa and sighed.

"You think so?" he asked and God, Castiel could have pushed him up against the counter and had him right there, siblings present or not, but instead he just nodded once, quiet and solemn.

"I do."

Dean seemed to contemplate this for a few seconds and then chuckled, leaning back fully with his head resting against one of the cupboards and Castiel's eyes slowly slid down the craned neck to rest at the sharp V-shape of the jugular, wanting nothing more in that moment than to kiss, bite and lick all over the soft flesh until Dean was nothing more than a shivering mess beneath him; all his worries chased away by the wicked play of Castiel's tongue and lips.

"You're a peculiar man, Cas." Dean said suddenly and Cas' eyes abruptly dropped to the floor as if had they been ripped there.

"Is that a good thing?" he asked silently, maybe even betraying a bit of the hope he felt twisting to life inside him and when Dean didn't answer, but simply smiled at him, Castiel had a very hard time to suppressed the full on body shudder that coiled just beneath the surface of his skin.

"By the way," Dean said, voice dropping a note or two, and that right there just wasn't fair. "I'm sorry about earlier, at the auto shop. It was rude of me, kicking you out like that."

"It's alright," Castiel assured him, "I understand." But Dean wasn't ready to let the subject go that easily.

"No, I mean it. I was being an asshole, that shit wasn't cool. I didn't mean to be all snappy, it's just that you…" he hesitated, licking his lips and swallowing as he thought about how to phrase it. "…reminded me of someone." He ended and Castiel's lungs knotted into a giant ball in his chest at the suggestive meaning behind those words, but somehow he still managed to squeeze out;

"I see." He gulped down another breath, and before he could stop it the question tumbled out of his mouth like a poorly contained form of verbosity. "An old... love interest?"

The word 'boyfriend' had been playing on the tip of his tongue, but he had just barely managed to hold it back. It was a rude question to begin with and he couldn't believe he just asked him that! Dean had only met _him_ a few hours ago for Christ's sake; of course he wouldn't just spill his thoughts like that in front of a total stranger!

"I'm sorry, " he blurted out, feeling horrible. "That is none of my business; I did not mean to pry."

"It's alright." Dean assured him, even if his smile suddenly lowered a few watts in strength. "I'm the one who brought it up." He looked down, studying his boots for a few seconds. "It was a guy I dated for a while. For about half a year or so."

"Dated?" Castiel didn't want to sound so desperate, so _needy_, but he couldn't help himself. Dean thought they had been dating? That they're weekly get-togethers in the showers had been the equivalent of romantic dinners and candle light?

"Yeah, or… sort of, it didn't start out like that, but… Over time the guy just grew on me I guess." He smiled, but then his face went serious again. "I don't think he was of the same opinion though..."

"Oh…" Castiel struggled to even find words, wanting nothing more than to scream out how wrong he was, that he did have that same opinion and that Dean had no idea what he was talking about, but instead what came out of his mouth was a mute; "I'm sorry to hear that."

Dean chuckled, but it was a depressed, wounded little sound.

"Cas, man, stop apologizing for everything."

"Sor-" he bit his lip, halting himself at last second. "I mean, alright." Dean nodded and Castiel wasn't sure if he should ask the question that was rolling around in his head, but he realized that a chance like this might never come back and he _had_ to know.

He cleared his throat, hesitating for a moment. "So…" he asked. "How come it ended?"

Dean sighed, kicking the heel of his boot loosely against the floor.

"It's a bit complicated…" he mumbled and Cas nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. 'Complicated' didn't even cover half of it.

"I miss him." Dean said suddenly, eyes still fixed on his feet. "Sometimes I just wish I could see him again, you know?"

Cas nodded once more, his brain still far too numbed out for rational thinking, or for him to even risk opening his mouth at the moment.

"It's so stupid." Dean muttered, as if he hadn't noticed Castiel's lack of response. "I mean, if I hadn't been such an idiot I could have asked him-" He cut himself off and Castiel's breath died in his chest right there. "I'm not even sure why I'm telling you this." Dean mumbled.

"Me neither." Castiel confessed quietly and Dean snorted.

"I mean, five minutes ago I could have sworn you were some kind of double agent of Zachariah's and now here I am telling you my life story, geez."

"You thought I was a spy?" Castiel asked, finding the thought too unrealistic to even be offending and Dean shrugged sheepishly.

"Well… You had the mandatory trench coat." He defended himself and now it was Castiel's turn to snort.

"So if I had worn a furry hat, would that have made me Russian?" He wondered, causing Dean's lip to twitch. He knew, deep inside that he shouldn't keep the conversation up like this, that he should be looking for ways to end it rather than continuing it, but seeing the way the shadow on Dean's face lightened up he just couldn't stop the question from tumbling out.

"I don't know." Dean sniggered in answer to his question. "If you're a spy you could probably fake that you're Russian, so I'm not sure if the hat would be necessary."

"I actually speak Russian." Cas recalled, cursing his suddenly very talkative mouth the moment the word left his lips. "Or rather, I know one phrase, but it still counts." He mumbled, trying to palliate his clumsily laid claim, but Dean was already a step ahead of him.

"Really?" The other male couldn't have sound like he believed him less. "Prove it." He dared.

"I told you, it's only one phrase…" Cas tried, but when Dean just sent him a challenging eyeful he cleared his throat, looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"_Pay Dadna_. " he said, the Russian accent trickling off his tongue as easy as water and at first Dean just stared at him as if he thought Cas just made the damn words up.

"What the hell does that mean?" he asked, barely holding back a disbelieving grin and Cas shrugged.

"It means 'Drink to the bottom'." He translated. "I learned it on a business trip to Russia a few years ago. They took us out for drinks and that sentence is the only thing I can remember from that entire night. That, and that telling your host that you're a homosexual will send you plummeting head first into a speed dating session with his _very_ unattractive second cousin." He added, getting rewarded by another snorted out laugh from Dean and god damnit he just didn't seem to be able to _stop_. Great going Brain, you simply HAD to bring up the gay didn't you?

"I thought I would have to convince him that I suffered from some incurable disease to get rid of him," he continued, spurred by the positive reaction, but horrified by the sound of his own voice, blabbering away, "but it turned out that he didn't think that highly of me either. We ended up mixing drinks behind the bar later. He was kind of nice."

"He didn't turn you fluent, then?" Dean teased. "Or teach you a few Russian pickup lines?"

Castiel rolled his eyes at him.

"Oh, by midnight I was fluent alright." He muttered, fully aware that he was actually just rambling, wincing inwardly because he should _stop talking_, right the fuck _now_, but his tongue seemed to have taken on a life of its own, spewing words out before his own brain had a chance to keep up with what he was saying. "And by the time I got back to the hotel I had mastered the linguistics of 'Drunk' most impressively." He continued and grimaced when Dean let out a low, highly amused chuckle. "Learning the language of 'Hung-over' the morning after wasn't as enjoyable though, but apparently one can't have one without the other. I'll tell you I will never have another vodka and beer in my life."

By now Dean was laughing out loud, leaning his head back to thud heavily against the cupboard and with a wide grin on his face.

"Holy shit, you must be a real handful when you get drunk." He laughed and if Castiel's brain immediately provided him with very graphic images of what Dean meant by 'handful' then it was in no means whatsoever his fault.

"I have got to take you out sometime." Dean grinned. "There's a place down town - I'm telling you the bartender there should get a fucking award or something – they have this shot called 'Purple Nurple' that tastes like a mix between coconut and apples. I promise you're gonna love them!"

But Castiel wasn't listening. He was staring at the man in front of him as if he had suddenly grown an extra head, the thought of alcoholic beverages being the last thing on his mind at the moment and for all he knew his heart was no longer beating inside his chest, because what Dean just said had sounded like-… like-…

"Are you… asking me out?" he stuttered and Dean's brain seemed to pull a complete freeze frame before it apparently caught up with what he had just said.

"I- Well, I-…" A tongue darted out to swipe along a full bottom lip and Dean swallowed hard, as if the full weight behind the suggestion had just occurred to him as well. "I guess if… if you want-"

And of course, because nothing could ever be simple, _this_ was the moment Sam decided to come crashing into the kitchen and both Dean and Castiel made a startled jump back from one another, realizing that somewhere during their conversation they had drifted far closer than what would be considered casually acceptable to peering eyes.

"Hey, you two getting along out here?" Sam beamed, striding over to fiddle with the coffee machine by the corner, pulling out filters and coffee beans from the cupboards and Castiel was convinced he could have strangled him with the pure force of his mind had he been given the chance.

"Yeah, we're good." Dean grumbled, pushing off the counter and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oh, great!" Sam's face lit up like a god damn Christmas tree of relief. "Gabe said things seemed a little tense between you two when he left so I though-"

"It's okay, Sam." Castiel assured him, though in reality he felt like giving him a fist to the face, but to be honest that would be like kicking a puppy and no matter his frustration that was just _wrong_. "We're getting along just fine."

He could feel the heat of Dean's eyes on his face as he said it and he felt a slow rising heat creep up his neck and make his ears flush. A quick glance to his left however showed that Dean was showing no such signs of embarrassment, but apparently he found the pink glow of Castiel's cheeks absolutely hilarious judging from the way his lips kept on twitching, trying to contain a poorly withheld grin. If Castiel hadn't been so head over heels in love with the guy he would probably have punched him; not too hard of course, but hard enough to make a point…

"What are you sloths doing out there?! I want my coffee!" Gabriel's voice was loud and annoyed as it rang out from the couch outside and Castiel had barely managed to resist his initial urge to snap put something rude in return when it continued; "Sam, you were supposed to _keep them_ from fucking against the interior, not stand there and _watch_!"

For a few seconds there was a thick, loaded silence smothering the kitchen and Castiel thought for a honest to God moment that he was going to kill himself right there. Seriously, he would make himself choke to death on a coffee filter if he had to because there could not possibly be any death more humiliating than the situation he was in right now. Then he heard a strangled, wheezing sound from his side and turn his head to see Dean, fighting and struggling to keep his face under control, but the moment Castiel shocked stare landed on him the dam broke and for the first time in over a month the sound of Dean's unrestrained laughter filled Castiel's ears, sending delicate flutters down his spine and before he knew it he found himself grinning back like a complete idiot. He almost startled himself when he heard his own laugh mix in with Dean's and it didn't take long before Sam joined as well, the three of them soon standing in the middle of the kitchen, doubled over with tears streaming down their faces.

Castiel was so tired, so completely _exhausted_ and this day was so completely fucked up beyond belief, because he _knew_ that none of this was supposed to be _this_ funny, but right now, right there, laughing together with Dean again was like a remedy to his stressed out brain and for that short span of time he actually felt content and at ease, Dean's body like a calming presence at his side.

By the time Gabriel came stomping into the kitchen, testily demanding his coffee, Dean was slumped down over the counter, struggling desperately to catch his breath and Castiel had buried his face in his hands, certain that if he kept watching Dean's fatal attempts to get back up he would without a doubt die from lack of oxygen within the following minute and a half.

"What the hell is so funny?" Gabriel asked, eyes glowering from one face to another, and the sheer expression on his face; as if he had just realized that something incredibly funny had happened and he had for all he knew missed out on the whole thing, looked so comical and absolutely hysterically disgruntled that all Cas could produce was a garbled noise in the back of his throat and that was it.

When they all finally managed to calm down after about ten additional minutes Gabriel was back sulking in the sofa and it took them four full, sugar filled cups of chocolate-cream-coffee and a bone crushing body hug from Sam to get him to at least talk to them again. It was a mild success, since the first thing he grumbled out was a low and grumpy '_you're all dicks_' which they all of course shared amused glances over before settling down to work out the remaining details of the plan. Cas tried to concentrate on the things being said, but to be honest he wasn't doing a very good job.

Dean asked him out.

As in a date. With just the two of them. For an entire evening. With alcohol!

And yes, Castiel was well aware that hasn't officially accept the offer, but… it was _Dean_. Asking _him_! Now just how the hell was supposed to process something like that?

A flicker in the corner of his eye distracted him from Sam's show and tell on the laptop and when he turned his head he saw the green ocean of Dean's eyes glisten at him, a secretive little smile playing in the corner of his mouth as if the two of them shared a secret; an inside joke that only the two of them understood and for some reason that smile didn't make Castiel's brain panic and go darting to conclusions like it had before, but instead it spread a warm, soothing feeling through his chest that enabled him to gather himself enough to shoot back a smile of his own before returning his attention to the computer and the task at hand. The steady pound of _Dean, Dean, Dean_ was still washing through him, making his breath shiver on occasion, but it was calmer this time, as if pleased with the current situation.

Later, he promised himself silently, trying to keep his eyes from throwing sideward glances at the man standing just a few, alluring feet away. When this was all over.

_Later…_

/\/\/\/\/\/\

**_You guys totally earned this; a record of 20 A4 pages filled with UST! I hope you're happy ;)_**

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_*Edit - I have changed the word "Tourrettes" that I used in a description above into "verbosity" because it was brought to my attention that the word in that context came off as offensive. I apologize deeply for this and assure you that I will watch out for mistakes like that in the future. I really, really don't want anyone to think that I'm being deliberately disrespectful about something I know is a very common and very mentaly straining problem. I am horribly sorry and I pray from the bottom of my heart that I didn't make anyone feel bad about this =(_**_  
_**


	11. Chapter 10

"You look frickin' ridiculous, dude."

Gabriel waved Dean's comment off with a nonchalant flick of his wrist as he slammed the car door shut with his foot.

"You're just jealous that you're not able to pull this look off yourself."

Dean snorted loudly, leaning off the roof of his Impala and coming around to join the shorter male on the other side of the vehicle.

"As if I would want to parade around looking like a lost member of the Village People." He remarked, but Gabe simply only rolled his eyes at him.

"Like I said; jealous." He made an inviting motion towards the large building in front of them. "Shall we?"

Their shoes scraped against the asphalt as they made their way across the lot, Dean's heavy boots sounding louder than Gabriel's lighter dress shoes, kicking up the dust as they went, but before they even got halfway Dean stopped abruptly and turned towards Gabriel with a wince.

"We're never going to get in with you looking like that." He groaned. "No one's going to believe you're a professional with that thing."

"What are you talking about?" Gabriel objected. "Of course they will."

Dean scratched the back of his neck, searching for words.

"Couldn't you have picked something with a little less…?" He waved his hand through the air in a makeshift pattern. "I don't know, just _less_?" he finished lamely, hand dropping to his side.

Gabriel peered down at himself with a scowl and gestured to his attire, obviously not understanding what the problem was.

"What's wrong with this?" he demanded and Dean bit his lip as he looked the shorter man up and down, trying his best to not grimace. The suit was fine; it looked expensive, as did the shoes and the black leather briefcase. Dean had no idea where Gabriel had gotten hold of them; it certainly wasn't stuff he had expected the guy to own. His hair was carefully arranged; the brown strands combed back in well slicked waves and looked, in lack of a better word, neat. It all looked good. Great even… but then there was the _moustache_.

The beard was not a problem, that part he would even go as far as to say that he liked, but the _mustache_… It looked like the one Burt Reynolds had worn in Smokey and the Bandit, only brown and… less solid.

Dean couldn't put his finger on what it was about it that made him feel so hesitant; perhaps it was the fact that he had never seen Gabriel's face anything but clean-shaven, but Cas had assured Sam the day before that the fake moustache looked very close to the real facial hair Gabriel had grown and worn a few years ago, and if Cas was okay with it then…

He threw a quick look at himself, taking in the image of the fringed jeans, the black t-shirt, the green, unbuttoned shirt and his brown leather jacket and he realized with a sharp stab to his pride that next to Gabriel he must be looking like something pulled out of the gutter, facial hair or not.

"Nothing," he muttered, turning away, "Forget I said anything." He continued to walk and Gabriel followed with a non-caring shrug, along with a childishly stuck out tongue that Dean pretended not to see.

The company building rose high above their heads as they reached the big glass doors that lead to the lobby and Dean suppressed the unpleasant shiver that ran up his spine as they stepped inside. The Edenstar structure had always given him the creeps. In his opinion it was far too big and far too pompous to be anything but malevolent… Gabriel however showed no signs whatsoever to be put down by the construction's superior irradiation as he strode up to the reception's desk and knocked on the counter, drawing the attention of the blonde woman sitting behind it.

"Good afternoon." He greeted; all confident smiles. "My friend and I are here to see Zachariah."

The woman blinked at him, as if he had just spoken using the words of a foreign language, but then she seemed to catch on to what he was saying and dove into the computer on the other side of the counter.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few seconds of typing, "but Mr. Adler does not have any appointments scheduled for today."

Gabriel scowled, putting on an expression of genuine surprise.

"That's odd," he remarked, "He knew we were coming. He must have forgotten to write it down; he's a busy man after all." He motioned to the elevator at the other end of the room. "Which floor is he on? We can see ourselves up; spare him the waiting." he offered, but the woman just glared at him as if he'd just suggested that the two of them should elope together and conceive twelve-or-so snotty nosed kids.

"I'm sorry," she said dryly, "but without an official invitation there's no way I can possibly-"

"Richard? Richie, is that you?"

All three of them turned around as the new voice sounded behind them and even though he had expected it and already knew who it was Dean barely managed to suppress the vicious jolt of heat that went through his gut when he turned around and spotted Castiel coming towards them, his suit jacket casually flung over his shoulder and his briefcase firmly held in the other. He tried his best not to stare, he really, really did, but it was hard not to because Castiel looked _good_. Like really, _really_ good. Dark hair with just that hint of post-sex ruffle that made Dean want to drag his hands through it, a shade of stubble on his chin that he was sure would give just the right amount of scratch during a kiss and lips that were just begging to be licked and nipped by both tongue and teeth. And then of course there was the suit. Dean didn't like suits, all strict and uncomfortable, but Castiel… Castiel made suits look ridiculously hot. He had a body made for Armani and Versace, the light material of his shirt stretching over the lithe muscles of his arms and shoulders and not that he was looking, but Dean was almost certain that he was able to hint the outline of a nipple through the white fabric. Not that he was looking…

"Castiel? What in god's name are you doing here?" Gabriel stared at his brother as if he had magically sprung out of the ground, Cas mimicking the expression flawlessly as he placed his briefcase on the floor by his feet, extending his hand in greeting.

"I could say the same to you." He pointed out, but Gabriel swatted the outstretched hand away in favor of pulling the other man in for a hug. It was a short, masculine, but very fond greeting, like one exchanged between two old friends who had not seen each other for a very long time, but it still managed to set off an unexpected spark of possessive jealousy inside Dean's chest. For a split second Dean wished that they could have played this differently; that Dean could have been the one in a suit, currently with his arms wrapped around Castiel's body and the sudden thought sent his heart staggering back with a genuine version of the acted surprise that painted Castiel's face when he stepped back from the embrace to study Gabriel's clothing.

"You look different." He offered, sounding amused. "Last time I saw you, you wouldn't wear a suit at gunpoint."

Gabriel grimaced.

"It comes with the job I'm afraid."

"You're here on business?" Cas made it sound as if this was something highly unlikely and Dean marveled at how the two of them managed to act acquaintances so flawlessly.

"Yeah, my client and I have a meeting with Zach upstairs, but apparently I can't go up unless my name's in the books and well…" he gestured to the woman behind the counter who immediately went wide eyed and dove back behind the computer screen when Castiel's eyes followed the movement. Catching the woman's sudden disappearance Cas chuckled, nothing more than a soft exhale of breath, but for some reason the sound still managed to make Dean's toes curl.

"Don't worry about that." He assured them, turning back towards Gabriel. "If Zachariah's expecting you then you should just go on up. He gets cranky if he has to wait." He sent a sideward glance at Dean who quickly ducked his head away, not wanting to be caught staring. "I hope it's nothing too serious?" Cas asked, lowering his voice a little, but keeping it loud enough so that the blonde behind the counter could still hear.

"No, only a few clauses that needs to be discussed, it shouldn't take long." Gabriel assured and Castiel nodded, seemingly pleased.

"I see. Well, good luck to you then. Zachariah's office is on the sixteenth floor. Talk to the receptionist when you get up there, she will send you in."

He offered Gabriel his hand and this time Gabriel shook it.

"It was nice seeing you again, Rich." He said and Gabriel grinned back.

"You too, Cassie."

A glimpse of a frown dashed across Castiel's face at the name and he pulled Gabriel in closer.

"Now don't screw this up." He whispered; this time low enough not to be heard by any unwelcomed bystanders. "I may not like the people in charge here, but I want to keep my job."

"C'mon bro, since when have I screwed anything up?" Gabriel grinned, making Castiel cock a sarcastic brow at him.

"You really want me to answer that?" he mumbled, but Gabriel simply grinned ever wider and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. Then he leaned in an whispered something into the other man's ear that Dean couldn't hear and Cas' cheeks immediately tinted a faint shade of pink before he muttered a silent, but heated 'shut up' to his brother and pulled away.

"See you around." Gabriel said and Cas nodded, stealing another quick glance in Dean's direction before continuing past them towards the door, briefcase once again in his hand.

Dean watched him go from the corner of his eye, once again barely avoiding getting his gaze stuck on the way those dark suit pants hugged around the other man's rear, but without succeeding very well. It was a damn fine rear… firm and muscular from the looks of it... just enough meat on there to make it grope-able… Those suit pants really didn't do that baby it justice. Jeans, that's what Dean wanted to see on that body. Not necessarily with anything else. In fact, he could do without the jeans too. And he realized that he really should stop thinking about things like that while still in public, but damn it, how was he supposed to do that when Cas was right _there_, like bottled sex waiting to be uncorked and with those god damn _eyes_ that had the ability to make Dean go from celibate to near-orgasm in two seconds flat! Fuck, it was as if… if Dean didn't know any better he would say that…

The memory of pupil blown, blue eyes, the faint smell of oil and gasoline along with the sound of a hitched breath suddenly flashed through his brain and he abruptly shut his eyes, ripping his gaze away from Cas just as the other man walked through the large doors and disappeared out of sight.

Wishful thinking, that's all it was. Sure there were likenesses, but… it was all coincidence, circumstances, his imagination playing tricks on him. He was projecting, that's what's going one here. He was thinking so much about _him_ that he was starting to imagining things. So Cas had blue eyes, big deal. A lot of people had blue eyes. And he had a brother, sure, but so did Dean. And he worked at Edenstar, he even was a suit… a highly respected member of the board even, which fit the profile more than well… but that didn't mean anything! He was just being stupid! Like seriously, what would the odds of that be? He was being stupid…

Dean wasn't going to deny that Cas had taken up a fair deal of his mind lately, but that was only natural. Cas was hot, and there was no shame in Dean finding him to be attractive… even if the initial spark had been caused by the fact that he had thought… wished for him to be someone else… God, that night in Bobby's workshop… He had been so sure, so _certain_, but then… He mentally kicked himself. No. No, no, no. He should stop thinking about that. It wasn't real, Blue was gone. He should get his head out of the gutter and focus on the _now_. They were performing a fucking heist here; this was no time to zone out over the past! Cas was not Blue, end of story! Blue was supposed to be a fling and he-… he should just let it go...

Then again, if only…

He was rudely pulled out of his brooding when Gabriel suddenly cleared his throat and he turned around just in time to see the suit clad man focus his attention back at the receptionist with a hinged brow.

"So is it okay of we-?" he gestured towards the elevator again and the woman nodded quickly, seemingly shrinking behind the counter.

"Of course, go ahead." She mumbled and Gabriel fired off another one of his certified douchebag smiles in return.

"Thank you."

Dean hid his amused snicker behind his hand as they walked past, but when the elevator closed its doors behind them and started moving upwards he turned back to Gabriel with a grin.

"I take it that Cas is well respected around here?" He offered casually and Gabriel shrugged.

"Respected enough to get us past the front desk apparently."

"Yeah, that worked better than I had thought…" Dean admitted. He threw a quick glance at the other. "So, he's never… I don't know… told you what he does?"

Gabriel shrugged again, not really seeming to focus on what he was being asked.

"Nah, he doesn't talk about work much."

"Then what does he talk about?" Dean prodded and Gabe turned to him with his brow raised.

"Cas?" He looked as if asking about his brother was the most boring subject ever and he seemed genuinely surprised that Dean would bring something like that up. "To be honest he doesn't really talk at all. He's a quiet guy. Socially awkward and all that."

"He doesn't seem that awkward to me." Dean objected and Gabriel chuckled.

"Yeah, but that's because you're-…" he abruptly cut himself off and Dean's ears perked intently.

"Because I'm what?" he urged. Gabriel bit his lower lip and glared at him, as if Dean's curiosity suddenly had turned extremely offensive, but after a few seconds of intense glowering he sighed deeply, defeated.

"Okay, so you've probably already figured out that my brother is, so to speak, batting for the other team. As in, you know, the gay team…"

Dean nodded, wondering if he should mention that Cas had actually told him this himself that night in Sam's kitchen, but he kept his mouth shut, listening intently.

"And the thing is…" Gabriel continued, shifting his weight to the other foot. "Well… Cas likes you, okay? And in contradiction to what one would think, when Cas gets nervous he doesn't shut down and go quiet like every other person would. His mouth goes on a wild rampage and he says things he shouldn't and most of the time he ends up insulting the person he's talking too a good few times over before he gets a hold of himself enough to leave the room. So if you're telling me you haven't noticed any of that…" he laughed, shaking his head, "then I guess you must be just as socially awkward as he is."

Dean stared at him, blinking slowly, first once, then twice.

"So…" he swallowed, trying to kick his brain back into gear. "Cas really likes me?" he asked slowly.

Gabriel looked at him wide eyed for a few seconds, then he sighed and rolled his eyes with resignation.

"You're a frickin' match made in heaven." He muttered under his breath, just as the elevator doors opened with a faint ping. Gabriel stepped out and Dean followed him in silence, his already momentarily dazed mind staggering when faced with the new interior of the room outside and he grimaced inwardly at the sight.

The sixteenth floor was decorated completely in white. White paneled walls, white marble floor and white furniture, everything adorned with details of polished gold. The interior was presented in a flamboyant, Victorian design, from the golden fixtures of the lamps to the heavy, silk clad couches and the hand carved details on the opal infused table next to it. As they walked through the room Dean spotted a white, marble sculpture standing next to a vulgarly large flower decoration on the receptionist's desk. It was big, almost as tall as his lower arm was long, and it depicted an angel, standing with its wings spread and arms reaching out in what seemed to be an embrace. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but the entire thing looked so _smug_, as if the fact that it had wings somehow made it better than whoever it aimed its embrace towards and as they walked by his entire being was just itching to flick the annoying artwork to the ground and watch it shatter into pieces.

The receptionist looked up behind the desk as they approached and Dean's brain immediately started taking down mental notes. A young woman, dark hair, kind of cute, no jewelry, no visible tattoos or piercings, grey pantsuit, professionally looking… if it hadn't been for the latina-look Dean would have written her off as boring right away.

Gabriel walked up, still confident as ever and leaned against the counter with one elbow, smiling in greeting. She did not smile back.

"Can I help you?" she asked, looking them up and down with a snarky expression that in Dean's opinion was completely uncalled for.

"Yes, we are here to see Mr. Adler, please." Gabriel lied with a beaming smile, adopting the last name he had been given by the woman downstairs without as much as a hitch. Dean could have told him straight away what the answer to that would be.

"He's not expecting anyone today."

Gabriel nodded.

"Yes, we went over that with the lady downstairs-"

"Rachel."

"I'm sorry?" Gabriel blinked and the girl looked at him blankly.

"Her name is Rachel." She repeated shortly and Gabriel cleared his throat with a light cough.

"Oh… uh, well, anyway, you see, it's very important that we get to see Mr. Adler today because-"

"Important to you or important to him?"

At that Gabriel's smile actually faltered.

"To him." He answered dryly, to which the girl gave him a raised brow in return.

"And if it's so important to him, then how come he hasn't told me that you were coming?" she asked.

"Because he doesn't know about it yet." Gabriel deadpanned.

"I see. Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Now hold on-!"

Dean saw the girl's face cloud over and quickly stepped in between, placing a firm hand on Gabriel's shoulder to silence him.

"What my friend here is trying to say…" he looked at the employment card attached to the girl's blouse. "… Lisa, is that the things we have to discuss with Mr. Adler is sort of…. delicate."

"Delicate?" The skepticism in her voice was only rivaled by the one showing on her face.

"Yeah." He let off an apologetic smile. "And I understand that you wouldn't want to disturb him unless it's absolutely necessary, but believe me when I tell you that he's really gonna want to talk to us, and I would hate for you to get into any trouble for not even asking him if he wants to see us."

At that Lisa's lip actually twitched slightly.

"So you're saying," she mused, "that you want to talk to Mr. Adler in order to keep me out of trouble?"

Dean tilted his head, shamelessly looking her up and down through half lidded eyes.

"Such a pretty girl like you don't deserve to get into any kind of trouble. Unless you want to of course?" he added smoothly, promptly ignoring the horrified look Gabriel sent his way.

Lisa leaned in over the counter, returning the blatant examination he had just given her before sitting back down again.

"That depends on the trouble." She admitted, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, don't even think about it. You couldn't handle my kind of trouble." he challenged.

"I'm a big girl." She assured him. "I think I'll manage."

"Well…" Dean rested his elbows on the counter top, lowering his voice and forcing Lisa to lean in closer in order to hear him. "If you would be willing to make that one little call to your boss' office to ask if he'll see us, I might be inclined to hold you against your word on that."

"When?" she asked bluntly.

"How does Friday at eight sound?"

"Sounds like a date."

"Awesome." Dean straightened up with a grin, receiving another dark look from Gabriel before the shorter man stepped in between once more.

"Tell Mr. Adler that Mr. Winchester is here with his lawyer."

Lisa's smile washed off her face the moment Gabriel opened his mouth and it was with a sour glare that she pushed in the button of her headset.

"Sir, there is a Mr. Winchester with legal representation here to see you."

There was a short silence and then Lisa straightened up in her seat and nodded sharply.

"Yes sir. I'll send them in right away." She pushed the button of the headset once more and gestured towards the door on the opposite side of the room. "Mr. Adler will see you now." She bit out towards Gabriel before turning to Dean with a smile. "Seems like you were right after all; I owe you one."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me later." Dean managed to assure her before Gabriel grabbed hold of his jacket and more or less hauled him away.

"See you Friday!" Lisa called after him and Dean flailed his arm in a makeshift wave before turning to the shorter man currently dragging him across the room.

"Hey, watch it!" he hissed silently, tugging himself free.

"Keep it in your pants, Romeo." Gabriel muttered back and Dean scowled.

"What's with the attitude?" he asked. "She didn't even like you and besides, the last time I checked you were dating my brother."

Gabriel opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he looked away, shaking his head.

"And you're painfully single it seems..." he grumbled instead, reaching out to place a hand on the doorknob, but Dean's fingers around his wrist stopped him.

"Hey." Dean snapped. "We had to get in and I got us in. If you don't like the way I did it then that's your problem, but don't you go shoving that stuck-up attitude in my face for no good reason."

Gabriel glared at him, jaw clenching and unclenching as he seemed to mull his words over.

"Fine." He grumbled eventually, pulling his hand free. "Just don't forget why we're here."

Before Dean had the time to say anything in response Gabriel pushed the door open and without waiting he walked inside, slipping seamlessly into his role of douchebag lawyer faster than Dean could bat an eyelid. Biting back a frustrated growl, Dean straightened up and followed his associate inside, the anger that had been born from Gabriel's sudden shift in attitude instantly redirecting itself when he spotted the man sitting on the other side of the vulgarly large oak desk. Closing the door silently he watched Gabriel walk up to his former boss, hand stretched out in greeting and with a smile so sleazy it would have made Dean's skin crawl had it been directed towards him.

"Mr. Adler, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Richard Speight, Mr. Winchester's attorney."

Zachariah returned the smile with one almost identical to it, one that Dean remembered all too well and his hand was firm when it clasped around Gabriel's.

"Please, call me Zachariah." He gestured to the two large leather chairs on their side of the desk and they both sat down as Zachariah lowered himself back into his own seat. Dean immediately decided that he didn't like the chairs. The armrests and the back were too high and it gave him a feeling of being boxed in. He couldn't see the door even if he looked over his shoulder and he did not find the view of their escape route being blocked very assuring. If Gabriel felt the same way though, then he wasn't showing it; sitting leaned back, legs confidently crossed with his hands folded in his lap, his entire demeanor giving off a steady aura of professionalism while looking like the most untrustworthy legal council ever to walk the planet. That last part, if Dean had to guess, being Gabriel's own charming personality shining through.

"So, gentlemen," Zachariah opened up his arms in an inviting gesture. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well," Gabriel motioned discretely towards Dean. "To get straight to the point, my client here has a few questions regarding his termination that he has expressed a desire to discuss. I'm here as legal council and witness."

"Oh?" Zachariah turned his eyes to Dean, who met the gaze with a poorly contained glare. "And what questions could that be, since apparently he believes they need to be witnessed by a lawyer?"

"For starters I'd like to know where my money is." Dean growled out, his politeness not reaching beyond that of a snarl.

"Money?" Zachariah asked, lacing his fingers and politely placing the hands on top of the desk with a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes, my money." Dean repeated lowly. "More specifically; the five months worth of pay that your human resources department refuses to give me."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Zachariah gave a small chuckle that made Dean want to punch his face in. "If I remember correctly, you forfeited that money to the company at the point of your termination."

"Like hell I did." Dean spat and Zachariah's eyes hardened.

"It was part of our _agreement_, remember?" he reminded, a sharp edge sneaking into his tone and at that Dean pushed up from his seat and slammed his palms down on top of the desk, making Zachariah retract his hands with a slight flinch.

"Screw your agreement!" he snarled. "I want my money you bald son of a bitch!"

Gabriel quickly leaned over and placed a firm hand on Dean's chest, slowly pushing him back into his seat.

"Dean, calm down. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation." He soothed, but when he turned to Zachariah his voice grew hard. "If Mr. Adler would be so kind to go over the terms of this agreement for me, perhaps things will become a bit clearer?"

"What is there to go over?" Dean snapped. "I already told you that they stole my money, threatened me and-"

"Excuse me?" This time it was Zachariah who stood up from his chair and Dean followed suit, hands balling into fists by his sides.

"You heard me!" he hissed. "You threatened me, you stole my money and I want it back!"

Gabriel vigilantly rose from his own seat, hands held out in a peaceful attempt to calm the situation down.

"Gentlemen, please-…" he started, but Zachariah interrupted him.

"This is the most preposterous thing I've ever heard!" he spat. "Are you insinuating that I would-"

"I'm not insinuating anything," Dean snarled. "I'm spelling it out!"

"Mr. Winchester," Gabriel winced, "Please sit down, this is not-"

"What are you harking at me for?" Dean whirled around towards him, pointing an accusing finger at Zachariah, "_He's _the bad guy, have on him instead!"

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to this!" Zachariah reached for the panel of his desk phone, but before he could lay a finger on it Dean was already fisting his hands in the other man's pristine suit jacket, hauling him over the desk and down onto the floor along with what looked like a very expensive glass bowl filled with paperclips which followed shortly after, hitting the floor with a loud bang and scattering tiny metallic clips everywhere.

"You fucking bastard!" he growled, shoving the other man down so hard his head banged against the floorboards.

"Dean, what are you doing?!" Gabriel's voice cracked, sounding absolutely horrified at what he was seeing and on the floor Zachariah was twisting around, trying to make Dean let go of him.

"Get him off me!" he yelled at Gabriel, but the only thing he got was another hard slam to the back of the head.

"Shut up!" Dean hissed and with another strong tug, he dragged the flailing man up from the floor and tossed him across the room, almost knocking an expensive looking vase off its pedestal before pursuing him, Gabriel's voice like a panicked blabber in the background. He hauled Zachariah up once more, turning him around and that's the point when Zachariah started yelling for security, but Dean silenced him with a quick punch to the gut, knocking the air out of him.

"I thought I told you to shut up."

Zachariah wheezed something out between gritted teeth and Dean lowered his head down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"Your brother-… " Zachariah grated out, but he didn't get much further before Dean was back up in his face, teeth bared in a snarl.

"You think you're the only one capable of making threats?!" he hissed. "Huh?! Well let me break the news for you; if you touch my brother, if you as much as move him to another _desk_, then there's not going to be a single place on this earth were you're gonna be able to hide from me! I'm going to hunt you down and when I find you, I'm going to make the Spanish Inquisition look like a freaking slumber party!"

He reached out and grabbed hold of Zachariah's jaw, forcing it up so that the other man's gaze locked with his, bearing down on him with every inch of cold, menacing threat that he could muster.

"So go ahead," he hissed, "tell me again what you're going to do about my brother and I'll rip the bones from your body one by one, you disgusting little-..."

"Dean, that's enough!"

Suddenly Gabriel's arms were around Dean's neck and torso, dragging him back and forcing him to let go of the other man who promptly slumped to the floor, coughing and wheezing.

"I'm so, so sorry Mr. Adler," he pleaded. "I had no idea he would do something like this, I assure you-"

"Get out…!" Zachariah spat and Gabriel nodded, almost bowing down in his remorse.

"Yes, yes of course, we're leaving right now."

Pushing Dean in the direction of the door, Gabriel continued to apologize long after Zachariah began getting up from the floor and it wasn't until the office door closed behind them that he released his grip on Dean's jacket.

"Did you get it?" Dean grunted, adjusting his clothing with a shrug and Gabriel snorted loudly.

"Please, I had it in there long before you planted your fist in Zachariah's ribs."

Dean's face split in a wide grin.

"Yeah, that felt good," he admitted, but then he scowled slightly. "You think we should worry about him calling the cops on us about that?"

Gabriel shook his head.

"He won't call the cops. Having them snooping around here is the last thing he wants right now."

Dean nodded eagerly, pulling his fingers through his hair.

"Good, good… Though I should probably have thought about that before I punched him."

"That could have been a good idea, yeah."

The elevator doors suddenly pinged open behind them and they both turned towards the sound, only to be met by the sight of the largest security guard in the history of creation stepping out onto the floor, night stick already drawn and with a malevolent look on his face.

"Okay, now just play it cool." Gabriel whispered, but when he turned back around he was met with empty space because Dean was already striding towards the receptionist's desk, waving at the guard with a large smile.

"Hey!" he called out and the guard immediately zoned in on him, looking momentarily confused as Dean turned towards Lisa who now looked downright terrified of him.

"Is this expensive?" he asked politely, pointing at the angel statue he had seen earlier, to which she slowly nodded and Dean smiled.

"Good."

And with that he placed two fingers behind the angel's head and slowly tipped it over, grinning proudly at the guard when the delicate object collided with the floor in a loud crash, ceramic pieces scattering like shuffleboard tiles over the well polished, marble surface. Two seconds later he found himself shoved face down against the counter top with a hand the size of a bin lid pushing in between shoulder blades and the night stick tightly pressed against his jugular, forcing a gasp out of his lungs. He looked up and found Lisa staring at him in disbelieved horror and he fired off a strained smile.

"Looks like I might have to cancel that date." He grated, chocking down a cough when the night stick pressed even tighter against his throat.

"You're insane." She whispered and before Dean had the time to say anything else he was being hauled off towards the elevator, the guard's hands fisted in the back of his collar.

"You." The guard pointed the stick at Gabriel and then at the two stainless doors. "Get in."

Gabriel quickly obeyed, throwing a worried glance at Dean who was still looking rudely pleased with himself as he got manhandled into the elevator. The guard followed, sending them both warning glares as if to dare them to try something funny before he pressed the button to the entrance floor.

As soon as the doors were shut he let go of Dean's jacket and the oldest Winchester groaned, rubbing his throat with a reprimanding scowl.

"Jesus, Tiny." He winced "I thought I told you to be gentle."

The large guard huffed silently, reached out and pushed the button for the fourteenth floor as well and just like that is was like watching a veil drop and the stone face he had been wearing softened as it cracked in a big grin.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away." The giant suddenly stepped forward and pulled Dean in for a bone crushing hug, almost lifting him off the floor in the process. "Shit man, it's good to see you!"

"Yeah," Dean wheezed into the uniformed shoulder "you too, buddy."

"Where the hell have you been anyway?" Tiny asked and Dean made a groaning little sound when the hug tightened even further. "You just stopped coming in one day! I had to find out from Rufus that you were even still alive!"

"Sorry," Dean apologized throatily, tapping the other man's back urgently. "Air, Tiny, I need to breathe."

"Oh, sorry." Tiny immediately let go, allowing Dean to take a stumbled step back. "I keep forgetting about that."

"Don't worry about it, buddy." Dean stretched the kinks out of his back with a huffed out laugh, gesturing with his thumb to Gabriel and himself. "Thanks for helping us out by the way."

Tiny waved him away with a snort.

"Don't mention it. That douchebag Zachariah needs to be taken down a few pegs." His face darkened, lips turning into a thin line under the mustache. "You know he tried to make me go fetch him lunch the other day?" he asked incredulously and Dean snorted out another laugh and shook his head.

"I'm not surprised. The guy thinks he's some kind of royalty, judging by the way he decorates his office."

Tiny's eyes lit up at the words, curiosity now evident on his face.

"Yeah, about that?" he prodded. "You guys wanna tell me what that stunt up there was all about?"

Dean threw Gabriel a sideward glance and Gabriel returned it before he leaned over and gave the giant man a pat on the arm.

"You'll find out soon enough." He assured him. "Once this cat gets out of the bag there's going to be all kinds of hell heading this way."

Tiny's eyes narrowed and he gave the two of them a long, suspicious look.

"You guys aren't going to get the rest of us in trouble are you?" he asked, but Dean shook his head.

"Only the ones who deserve it, I promise."

Tiny's shoulders relaxed and as if on cue the elevator stopped and the doors opened with a chime.

"So this is my stop." The large man nodded towards the corridor outside. "I trust you to be able to find your own way out?" he grinned.

"We're good." Dean assured him, but as the other man walked out he looked up at the corner of the elevator, gesturing to it with a throw of his head. "What about the cameras? Wouldn't it look weird that you're leaving us here in case someone comes snooping around?"

Tiny shook his head, looking appropriately apologetic.

"Sorry, seems like something managed to mess that camera up early this morning. I haven't had the time to call helpdesk yet."

Dean nodded, teeth bearing in a wolfy grin.

"I knew I could count on you to have my back." He winked and then raised his hand as the doors began closing. "Thanks again, man."

"Anytime, Dean." Tiny waved back, reaching up to tip the edge of his hat in return, his words slipping through the crack just as the elevator closed completely.

"Well, he seemed nice." Gabriel commented once the elevator started moving once more. "For a giant." He added thoughtfully, straightening out his jacket.

"Tiny?" Dean asked with a chuckle. "He's the kindest person south of the North Pole. After a few drinks it's like trying to fend of the hugs of a large teddy bear."

Gabriel laughed, the mental imagery provided by those words proving it too amusing to resist.

"I can imagine." He smiled and Dean smiled back before they both fell silent, watching the lit up numbers on the display by the door tick down from number thirteen to twelve.

"I asked him out." Dean suddenly said and Gabe's eyebrows shot up.

"Tiny?" he gaped and Dean spluttered, almost choking on his own breath.

"No! Jesus, I wasn't talking about- no!" Dean looked downright appalled, but then he ducked his head, seemingly getting absorbed by the task of studying his own shoes. "I meant Cas." He muttered.

"Oh…" Gabriel shot him a long, puzzled look. "I thought you were more of a… ladies man? The way you handled that receptionist and all…"

"It happens." Dean admitted silently. "Not as much lately as it used to though…"

"Ah." Gabriel nodded, as if impressed. "Well, good for you I guess."

Ten.

Nine.

"So when's the date?" he asked and Dean's shoulders tensed.

"We didn't say a time." He grumbled and Gabriel, sensing the defensiveness, dropped the subject.

Eight.

"You think he-…" Dean hesitated. "Would he think that I'm being too pushy if I asked him about it again?"

Seven.

Six.

Gabriel looked at him, face contemplating and serious. Then the corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he sighed.

"I think that if you don't ask him, you're going to have to wait for that date to happen for a very long time. Not that Cas doesn't want to go, but because he's too much of a coward to make the move himself."

Five.

"Oh." Dean blinked, and then he returned his eyes to study the floor at his feet. He hadn't really meant to mention the date-thing to anyone, but, seeing as Gabriel had revealed that Cas was actually into him had made him change his mind. He felt torn, at the moment he wasn't really sure if he wanted to go on a date with Cas. The whole thing had started out as a joke… or at least he thought it had been a joke? Also… being around Cas reminded him too much about Blue, but at the same time… Cas fascinated him, and he wanted to know more about him, but he just wasn't sure if he was ready.

He recalled the possessive feeling he had experienced in the lobby earlier, the way his very soul had seemed to ache at the prospect of reaching out and touch, just a brush of skin or fabric, anything… Perhaps it was time for him to move on. Perhaps Cas was the distraction he needed to set his mind straight again? To make him forget and start over. He could do this; he was Dean Winchester, of course he could take a smoldering hot guy out for a date. Of course he could!

He was going to ask Cas about that date the first chance he got. They could go out somewhere, nothing fancy, just as friends… or something. Relaxed, carefree. No pressure.

As if he had been reading his mind Gabriel suddenly chuckled next to him.

"You know, I think going on a date would do Cas good. He's been burying himself on work for almost an entire month now."

Three.

"Is that so?" Dean asked absentmindedly, being far too busy going through the list of the possible friend-slash-date friendly diners and restaurants he knew in his head.

Two.

"Yeah." Gabriel smirked, giving him a sideward glance. "I mean, earlier he used to work late every single Friday, but now he stays behind every day. It's like he's trying to compensate for something."

One.

"Yeah," Dean smiled. "The suits around here can get pretty intense sometimes. I've only ever met one that I actually kind of li-" The last word seemed to shrivel up and die on the very tip of his tongue and his eyes widened, a sharp inhale of breath startling the air.

The elevator doors opened with a faint ping.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Cas was pacing anxiously back and forth through Sam's kitchen when Sam's phone started vibrating on the kitchen table. The two of them flinched violently and Sam snatched the phone from the flat surface and flipped it open, not even bothering to check the screen for the caller ID.

"Hello." He grated, and Cas stepped closer, looking at him intently, almost holding his breath.

"Yeah, I got them. Downloading as we speak. How about you, you guys got out okay?"

Sam nodded at the response from the other side of the line, letting out a slow, relieved breath and Cas felt a rush of air leave his lungs in response. It had worked. He could barely believe it. Then Sam's brow suddenly furrowed and he looked up at Cas.

"Yeah, he's here… Alright, alright, hold on." He reached the phone out for Castiel to take, looking almost as confused as Cas felt. "It's for you." He offered and Cas took the phone with a puzzled scowl, bringing the device up to his ear.

"Yes?"

"Hi, Cas."

Cas' heart almost stopped beating at the sound of the voice from the other side and he swallowed hard.

"Dean." He greeted quietly.

"I'm not going to hold you, but I was thinking about that date. How does… Friday at eight sound?"

Cas' mouth went dry and he could feel a sweat break out on his skin. The date. He hadn't expected the subject to be raised so soon, yet Friday. That was…

"Cas, you still there?"

He snapped out of his thoughts when Dean's voice carried across the phone line, a worried twinge to his words.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was just- I mean…" He silently cursed himself for stuttering, but he couldn't help himself. "Friday's tomorrow." He ended lamely and on the other side Dean chuckled.

"Yeah… Considering we might all be in jail next week I was thinking rather sooner than later." He cleared his throat. "So what do you say?"

And to his horror and outmost dismay, without him giving his tongue even the mildest of consents, he felt his lips move and the sound that slipped out between them turned his insides to ice.

"Tomorrow sounds good."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Cliffhangeeeeeer!**

**Yes, I did it again. You all love me anyway, just admit it ;)**


	12. Chapter 11

_**Uhm… hi everyone *waves***_

_**I know you guys have been waiting for an update on this story for like… well, a long time, and I know that I haven't been responding to reviews and PM's as well as I should have and I hope that none of you brilliant, beautiful people think I've been avoiding you because that is so not the case. (CJ, I'm looking at you, honey. I haven't heard from you in so long, I miss you, come back…)**_

_**Anyway, long story short, I've been down with the flue for almost two weeks and last Saturday my grandfather passed away, so there's been a lot to do with the cleaning of his apartment and arrangements for the funeral which will take place on Friday so my inspiration as an author has been low to say the least.**_

_**Good news though is that at this point I doubt that there are many things left to happen that could possibly interfere with my writing anymore. So that's a start. I know I've been saying this a lot (like three months actually) but I am going to try and get the chapters out a bit faster from now on, hopefully without ruining the quality of my writing, so let's all cross our fingers that my luck will turn and that the restless demi-gods and tricksters out there will go pick on someone else for a change.**_

_**And I just wanted to tell you all how much you guys have helped me. Your encouragements and awesome messages have really been a lifeline this winter. I seriously don't know what I would have done without you. I must say, that when I started writing this story I thought that it might get a maximum of fifty reviews, but as it seems, I was mistaken; something I'm feeling incredibly happy and at the same time awkwardly dumbstruck about. I don't deserve you, I really don't… Your kind words make me smile every day and for that I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I wish I could pay you back somehow, but going by your comments, I guess the best I can do is to continue the story, so that's what I'm going to do. It's extra long this time, double sized just for you so I hope you'll like it ;) **_

_**Enjoy, my darlings!**_

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Cas was running around the apartment, the stubborn knot of anxiousness that had been lodged in his stomach from the moment he woke up still sitting heavy in his gut as he scrambled from room to room, looking for one piece of lost clothing after the other.

Going to work that day had been tough, and he had spent his entire day cooped up in his office, trying his best not to freak out every time the phone rang or whenever Becky made some sudden noise outside his door. Ten minutes didn't pass without him sending a nervous look to the locked desk drawer where he kept the envelope containing the information Sam and Gabriel had spent the night retrieving from the mainframe and every now and then he tugged at the drawer handle, just to make sure that it was still locked properly. Of course, no one would be able to enter his office and rummage through his desk without him noticing, but one could never be too careful. The original plan had been that Sam would be the one who'd make sure the envelope reached its proper destination, but since Dean had insisted that Sam stayed out of any sort of public involvement, Cas was now the one who had to do it and the psychological responsibility was starting to wear at him.

By the time the postal round finally came around however, he had expected that the subtle knock on his door would send him flying off his seat, but instead he felt a surprising calm settle over him, as if a older, steadier and more collected part of himself that he had not been aware of before slid under his skin and took over. It reminded him about the composed feeling he would sometimes get just before closing a big deal with a client and it was oddly reassuring, as if some higher power had reached down and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. He calmly unlocked the drawer and pulled the envelope out, hiding it in his lap in the cover of his desk before he straightened up, turned towards the screen of his computer and cleared his throat.

"Come in." he called out and even the sound of his own voice sounded strange, as if someone else was talking through him, _with_ him. Deep and gravelly and just that tad bit lower in key, as if he was hearing himself talk from a listener's point of view for the very first time and he frowned. Was this what he sounded like to other people? This is what Dean had heard that first time in the showers? Because if that was the case then suddenly that whole 'authority' talk felt a lot more believable…

The door to his office opened, revealing the postal cart as it came pushing inside, soon followed by a cap clad head peaking around the door frame.

"Good afternoon Mr. Novak."

On the inside, Cas let out a relieved sigh and he happily turned away from his computer, a genuine smile gracing his lips.

"Hello Alfie." He greeted politely. "Though, I believe I've asked you not to call me that."

The young man by the door flinched and then bowed his head in a display of abundant remorse.

"Sorry. I meant 'Good afternoon Castiel'."

Castiel laughed at the young man's exaggerated abashment and got a subtle, cheeky grin from underneath the red cap in return.

"So, you got stuck with mail duty today?" he asked and Alfie shrugged, pushing the cart all the way in and closing the door behind him.

"Yeah, Inias got sick." He grimaced. "Sounded like some nasty kind of flue or something."

"Yes, I heard there was something like that going around." Cas agreed and Alfie nodded, still grimacing as he began plucking with the cart. To be honest, Cas was more than a little relieved by the fact that Alfie was the one collecting the mail today. Inias was nice and all, but he had a tendency to let his curiosity get the better of him. There were rumors going around the office that he read other people's mail, but Cas was certain that those were just exaggerations; Inias was curious, not rude. Still, given the appearance of the envelope in Castiel's lap it would have been beyond hard to keep Inias in check long enough to make him deliver it without asking too many questions, maybe even to the wrong people. In comparison to the inquisitive youngster, Alfie felt like a heaven sent.

As if hearing his thoughts Alfie turned away from the cart and looked at him, still smiling.

"So, you got any mail for me today?" he asked, rubbing his hands together in acted anticipation.

"As a matter of fact I do." Cas picked up a heap of letters and folders from the corner of his desk and knocked them together against the wooden surface to align them before handing them out to the young man who took them with a smile and began paging through them, placing them one by one in the correct slots on the cart. The letters slid down with dry whispers and Castiel watched them intently, feeling his heart beat steadily inside his chest, the panic he had been expecting still nowhere to be found and he cleared his throat, looking away from the papers disappearing out of sight in favor of fixing his eyes on the youngster's face.

"So how are things on the job front?" He asked, the prospects of facing casual conversation nothing he feared when it came to Alfie and the young boy's face cracked open in a wide grin, as if he had simply been waiting for Castiel to ask.

"I've got an interview on Monday." He revealed proudly. "But I don't want to jinx it by saying anything else, you know?" he added quickly, almost apologetic and Cas held out his hands with a smile.

"Say no more." He assured him. "When it comes to landing a job one can never be too superstitious."

"I know, right?" Alfie marveled. "Like, you don't want to believe in the stuff, but at the same time you can't stop thinking about it either because what if you're wrong and accidentally screw something up?"

"I believe that is a very common, human reaction to be honest." Castiel nodded. "Nevertheless, I hope the interview turns out well for you, jinxed or not. You have far too much potential than what the postal department here deserves."

"You think so?" Alfie asked hopefully.

"I do." Castiel nodded. "Or perhaps you had planned on spending your career collecting mail from boring suits like us?" he added with a raised brow and Alfie laughed, shaking his head as he placed the last envelope into the cart.

"Oh, you could never be boring, Mr. Novak."

Castiel ducked his head away with an embarrassed smile, not even bothering to comment on the official sounding use of his last name. Taking compliments well had never been his forte and even such a small thing as being called 'not boring' was enough to make him feel highly uncomfortable.

"You'll do just fine, Alfie, I'm sure." He cleared his throat, sending the boy a quick glance. "And if you ever need someone to recommend you, you know where to find me."

"Really?" The young man's eyes shone up like minor suns. "Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!"

Castiel felt heat slowly begin to creep up his cheeks, Alfie's honesty and open admiration beaming at him with a force that almost had him squirming in his chair and he cleared his throat again, quickly paging through the remaining papers on his desk

"It's not a problem; I want you to do well." He explained quickly and then added, as an afterthought. "You're a good kid, Alfie."

"Thank you, sir." This time it was Alfie who ducked his eyes away and Castiel cleared his throat for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling reality picking at the back of his mind that they needed to move this along or this would turn into some awkward exchange of adoration and even though comfortable in Alfie's presence, he was more than certain that he did not have the social skills required to survive such a situation….

"Well, let me know how you did, okay?" He gave the young man a quick smile as he straightened up and turned back to the computer, a subtle sign for Alfie that it was time to leave. "And good luck."

"I will, I promise." Alfie assured him while grabbing hold of the cart, "You have a good weekend now, Mr. Nov- Castiel." He began maneuvering the trolley around, pushing it towards the door and Castiel straightened up behind his desk, watching from the corner of his eye how the cart moved further and further away. With his right hand he carefully slid the envelope on his knee down, dropping it onto the floor and then he gave it a quick push with his foot, the envelope sliding over the polished surface up to the now empty space where the cart stood only a few seconds ago.

"Hey, you dropped something."

Alfie stopped and threw a look over his shoulder, spotting the envelope and Castiel relaxed when he saw the grateful relief that flickered across the boy's face.

"Oh, thank you, I didn't notice." He walked over and picked the envelope up, turning it around to read the name and address scribbled on the front in Gabriel's sloppy handwriting. His brother had even called in a favor at the postal office to get the thing properly stamped to make it look as if it had been sent by mail. Clever work if Castiel had to be honest… not that he would ever admit that to his brother.

"To Mr. M. Anderson." Alfie read out loud and then he tapped at the envelope with the knuckles of his other hand. "Good thing you spotted this," he said, "I've heard Mr. Anderson is a bit picky about his mail."

"Don't mention it." Castiel waved him off. "Who's it from anyway?" he asked, hiding his mouth behind a slow rub of his hand.

Alfie turned the envelope around, frowning when he didn't find anything written where the sender's address should be.

"It doesn't say."

"Oh. Then you should probably deliver it as soon as possible." Castiel suggested. "Like you said, Matthew takes his mail very seriously."

"I will, don't worry." Alfie smiled and waved the envelope at him. "Again, have a nice weekend."

"You too, Alfie."

And with that Alfie left the room and when the door closed, Castiel slumped back into his chair with a huff, the weight of the day's first challenge slowly clearing from his chest only to be replaced by the other, more anticipating stirring that moved in to take its place.

Ten minutes later he announced to Becky that he wasn't feeling well and was going home early. Becky wished him a good weekend, a phrase that by now began to sound almost sarcastic the more he heard it considering the activity he was going home to.

Half an hour later he parked his car in the car park belonging to his apartment building and now, almost two hours after that he _still_ hadn't figured out what to wear for the date that continued to draw nearer with every tick of the clock, slowly driving him crazy.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Half past seven Cas had changed his outfit five times, sweated through three shirts and was now desperately trying to decide if wearing a tie would be too much or if he should just go without.

At the moment he was dressed in a pair of black, slightly stonewashed jeans, a burgundy shirt and a black vest and in his left hand he held one dark grey, silk tie and in the other he dangled a black one with three diagonal stripes in the same color as the shirt and he was staring the two pieces down in the mirror, an indecisiveness almost strong enough to touch making his stomach slowly turn the longer he stared. Maybe he should go for the casual, layered look with a t-shirt and an open dress shirt on top of that? That's what Dean wore most of the time from what he had been able to tell. Surely Dean would pick someplace to go where he would feel comfortable, where he would be in his element and could wear his usual clothes? But there were also the possibility that he only dressed like that when he was being casual. Perhaps he dressed differently on dates? What if Cas decided to wear a t-shirt and jeans and Dean showed up in a suit or something? Not only would Castiel then be completely underdressed, but Dean would also surely see that he had tried to mimic the other's clothing pattern and that would be beyond embarrassing. No, he should stick with what he had picked out and if Dean thought it was too much he could always remove the vest. Or change. Or maybe he should remove the vest now and take it on later, pretending that he wasn't done when Dean arrived? But then he wouldn't be able to explain why he hadn't put his tie on yet. Perhaps he should put it on now? But then he would look too dressed up if Dean showed up in casual clothes. And even if he ended up wearing a tie, which one should he pick?

The feeling of pulling at his own hair was overwhelming, but he managed to control himself, because otherwise he would have to redo his hairstyle again and he had done that three times already and he didn't have the mental energy left to manage a fourth.

Perhaps this date thing hadn't been such a great idea after all?

He was startled out of his babbling thoughts when the doorbell suddenly rang and both ties fell from his hands and he just barely managed to catch the grey one before it reached the floor. He threw a horrified look at his wrist, convinced that he had lost track of time during his fashion dilemma, but the clock only showed 19.40.

No, no, no, it was too early! He still had twenty minutes left, damnit!

There was another sharp buzz and Castiel's heart was now going 180 miles per hour inside his chest. He knew he should open the door, but his legs seemed frozen in place, his fingers clutching the now single tie so hard they rendered it unwearable. Dean was right there, on the other side of his door, and oh dear lord, why did he ever suggest they do something like this?!

Then suddenly he was there, his fingers closing around the cold door handle, pulling it open just as the third ring cut through the air.

Dean looked up, startled at Castiel's sudden appearance in the door way and he straightened up sharply, a wide eyed expression settling over his face as he looked Cas up and down. It was with a breathless Thank God to the heavens that Cas noted that Dean was wearing a shirt too, light grey and discreetly pinstriped, partially covered by his leather jacket of course, but still, it was a shirt, and it was buttoned, with a simple, black tie hanging down the middle. The knot was a bit crooked and there was no pin to hold it in place and keeping it from flapping around, but it didn't look bad. It looked a bit unnatural, and it was evident that Dean was not used to wearing it, but it didn't look _bad_ and just the thought that the other had bothered with putting on a tie for his sake made Castiel feel all kinds of funny inside.

For the longest time they just stood there, looking at each other until Cas finally managed to get his brain working somewhat normally again.

"You're early." He breathed out and Dean swallowed, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah…" he admitted with a crooked smile. "I've been sitting in the car for almost thirty minutes… figured I might as well come up."

"Oh." Cas blinked and Dean scratched at the back of his neck, looking mighty embarrassed as if he just realized that inviting yourself up to your date's apartment twenty minutes before the set time perhaps wasn't considered the most polite thing to do.

"But if you want I can just wait out here if you're not done?" he offered quickly and Cas snapped back to reality.

"No, you don't have to do that… Uh, please, come in." Cas moved out of the way, gesturing for Dean to come inside and Dean obeyed with a low 'thanks' and Castiel tried not to linger on the way their shoulders brushed against each other when Dean walked past him and inside his apartment, the tingle spreading across his skin intensifying when he realized that yes, Dean was now officially _inside_ his apartment and he had barely finished the thought when he heard Dean give an impressed whistle from behind his back.

"Wow, this is some place you've got here."

Cas turned around, finding Dean standing in the space between the hall and the living room, looking out over the impressive space. With almost the double height of a normal ceiling the living room opened up like a spacious cave, the long side facing them being occupied by a single glass window that spanned the entire wall, giving the illusion of the apartment opening up right into the sky outside and being on the thirteenth floor, that pretty much equaled nothing but clouds and the rooftops of other surrounding buildings.

Dean was fixing his attention to the recessed spotlights that covered the ceiling and nodded slowly, as if giving the room his silent approval.

"You live here all by your lonely self?" he asked, sending a teasing look over his shoulder.

"Yes." Cas quickly bent down and retrieved the black tie he had dropped from the floor, tossing the other, crumpled one to the side to land on the drawers by the mirror. "I'm not a fan of confined spaces." He filled in and Dean chuckled.

"Well, you sure don't have to worry about that here." He turned around, looking Castiel up and down once more. "Must be pretty neat not having to worry about anyone being able to peek inside though…"

Cas nodded.

"It's a luxury I allow myself." He answered simply and Dean's eyes slid over to the large U-shaped sofa and from there to the large, flat screen TV sitting opposite to it.

"Not the only one apparently." He commented and when Castiel gave him a shrug in return, indicating that, yeah, he liked television, he just smiled and turned back around, hands still in his pockets.

"So… you ready to go?" he asked and Cas looked down at himself, gesturing to his clothes with the tie.

"I'm not sure." He confessed with a sigh. "I've been taking off and putting on this stupid thing so many times my arms are getting sore." He held the tie out like some sort of apology and at that Dean actually laughed out loud, his eyes crinkling at the edges and then he walked up, reached out and casually plucked the tie from Castiel's outstretched hand, the fabric slithering over his palm like a silken snake and held it up, one end pressing lightly against Castiel's collar, studying the results with a light purse of his lips for a few seconds before nodding, pleased.

"Yeah, you should definitely wear this." He decided and before Castiel had time to react, Dean tossed the tie around his neck and began tying it.

"I can do that myself, you know." Cas said quietly, eyes sliding down to silently regard the askew knot of Dean's own tie, but Dean only snorted.

"You said it yourself that you've done it enough times already." His knuckle bumped a little against Cas' chin as he dragged the broad end of tie into the loop and he grunted out a quick apology when Castiel stiffened. The touch didn't hurt of course, but the sensation of having Dean's fingers skirting along the sensitive skin of his neck and throat did things to Castiel's body that surely must be too soon to indulge in this early in the evening, so instead he made a quiet 'hmm'-noise in confirmation that meant apology accepted and allowed Dean to pull the knot up and settle it comfortably beneath the collar of his shirt.

"There you go."

Castiel turned to look at the mirror, raising a quizzical brow at the way the broad side of the tie swung around to settle backwards against his shirt with the single colored, red silk side on display rather than the black and striped one.

"Oh." Dean reached out, spun the tie around and quickly tucked it inside the vest before it could flip itself again and then patted him once on the chest and Cas turned to look at the mirror once more. Black with three red stripes. It looked better than the grey one. Why had he picked out the grey one again?

"You good?" Dean asked with a grin and Cas nodded, reaching up to brush his fingertips over the slightly crooked knot.

"Yes…" he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a withheld smile. "I'm good."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Dean's car was parked by the street on the visitor's parking lot, and Cas had to say that it looked all kinds of impressive where it stood, black and sleek, with shiny rims and chromed details. Dean must have washed it today, he thought, feeling that same fuzzy warmth spreading through his chest at the idea of Dean making yet another effort to impress him. He knew how much that car meant to Dean, and he would like to imagine that Dean was as eager for Cas to like his car as much as he wanted him to like his brother.

"I see you finished working on your car." He said, letting a hand run softly over the polished metal. Real metal, mind you, not that plastic crap that covered Castiel's own vehicle.

"That's right." Dean recalled, grinning. "Last time you saw her she was in the garage."

"She was." Cas agreed, studying the shine of the roof, a smile of his own gracing his lips. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah, my Baby…" Dean dragged an affectionate hand across the rear view mirror. "She used to belong to my dad."

Castiel was stumbling close to say 'I know', but managed to stop himself at the last second. Shit, he had to tread carefully here. One slip up and he would get a world of impossible things to explain. God, this date might actually be a lot harder than he had realized. Not that he didn't want to tell Dean who he really was, because he _did_, but he _didn't_ want him to find out through an unmonitored slip of his tongue…

"You've taken good care of her it seems." He commented instead and Dean nodded, proud.

"I'm doing my best. Not a speck of rust on her so far."

"Does she run as good as she looks?" Castiel asked, a light challenge in his voice that he knew Dean wouldn't be able to refuse and sure enough, Dean's eyes practically gleamed when he straightened up to look at him across the top of the car.

"How about you get your pretty little butt inside and I'll show you…?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"You're a good driver." Cas commented later as they had been seated by a table at the diner Dean had driven them to, and Dean chuckled behind his menu, going through the different items even though he knew them by heart already. Rufus' place was the best semi-classy diner in town that he knew of; it had a cool bar that kept a nice price range, robust, wooden interior and an atmosphere that gave the place more of a restaurant-slash-bar-vibe rather than a pit stop-diner one and the food here was simply to die for. Rufus himself could use a bit more finesse though. Dean had not seen him around which most likely meant that he had taken the Friday off, which was probably for the best. Rufus was pretty rough around the edges, bordering to rude, but he ran a fine establishment here and as far as Dean was concerned this place was the only joint in town that could give The Roadhouse a fair run for its money, given that the food was practically unbeatable. Actually, he already had a plan for what to order them tonight, but he allowed Cas some alone time with the menu just to see if the other would go for something completely different than what Dean suspected, or rather, hoped he would. He wasn't going to deny that he had certain expectations on this date and if this man sitting opposite of him really was who Dean thought he was, then a handful of well placed questions and carefully laid out comments throughout the night should easily reveal that. Dean wished he could say that he already knew who it was he was dealing with here, but there was still this little, pecking voice in the back of his mind that kept telling him that if he was _wrong_, if he just jumped to conclusions without doing proper research first, then he might unintentionally manage to ruin this potentially good thing he had going with Cas. He could ask, of course, but how did one weave the phrase "Oh, by the way, do you have a history of jerking off regularly in public showers, and if yes, how many of those times were shared with another male present?" into a casual conversation?

No, he had to be subtle about this or he would end up sawing off the branch he was sitting on, and right now Castiel's innocent comment on his driving skills had managed to provide him with just the casual ice breaker he was looking for.

"I've been around cars and engines my entire life," he said with a shrug, "and since I'm a mechanic it's not that strange."

"You're a mechanic?" Castiel asked, sounding somewhat surprised. "I thought cars were just a hobby of yours."

"They are," Dean agreed, "but Edenstar didn't let me anywhere near their cars. I only handled the repairs on machines out in the workshop, you know like pallet trucks and lifters for the warehouse."

"Well someone has to do that too." Castiel agreed graciously and Dean snickered.

"Yeah, tell me about it. You know, we had this one chick, Meg, who worked with us over the summer a while back. Horrible, horrible driver. I have no idea how she did it, but every time she drove the fork lift she always managed to crash into the pillar by the northwest loading dock. I swear, by the end she didn't even seem sorry about it anymore. She even memorized the phone number to the workshop so that the foreman wouldn't find out about the repairs that had to be made."

"I take it she didn't leave any permanent evidence on the interior then?" Castiel smirked and Dean huffed.

"Not unless artistic freedom counts as damage." He smirked. "We used to make her sign the pillar every time she hit it. Now the entire thing looks like something yanked out of a modern art exhibition."

"Sounds very impressive."

"Yeah, who would have known she actually knew how to spell." Dean grimaced and Castiel chuckled.

"Still, mechanic or not, you're handling your car far better than I ever could." Cas remarked, returning to their original subject. "My own driving skills aren't that refined I'm afraid…"

"Everybody has their strengths." Dean assured him and then he added, as an afterthought; "I'm sure you're good at other things." but Castiel just smiled and shook his head.

"I'm afraid nothing comes to mind." he declined politely, but Dean didn't back down.

"Aw, c'mon. Don't you have any hobbies?" he prodded, setting the menu down. "Something you like to do in your spare time, like… watch old movies or something?"

It was a wild chance, he knew that, especially since music and movies were basically the how-to-date topic no.1 and 2 of all time, but if he got Cas talking about movies he might be able to steer the conversation into more specific topics; like the movies he had convinced Blue to watch during their time together and from there it would be easy to compare their thoughts and opinions on the different titles. So yeah, movies, Dean saw the TV in that apartment, of course Cas liked movies.

"I'm not sure…" Castiel hesitated "When I was young I used to do a bit of carpentry." he admitted and Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the same time as his heart sank in his chest. Blue had not mentioned anything about carpentry…

"Carpentry?" he asked incredulously.

"I like to use my hands." Cas shrugged, eyes diving down into his menu, but rose back up just as quick when he heard the quiet snicker Dean shot back at him.

"I'm sorry?" he asked and Dean looked at him, eyes sparkling.

"I said 'I bet'." he grinned and Castiel's ears immediately turned a tomato-shade of red, his grip around the menu tightening and Dean laughed, waving his hand around in apology.

"Sorry, sorry, I mean, you look like a handy kind of guy." He nodded towards Castiel's hands. "I had a feeling those were made for more than shuffling papers."

Castiel relaxed back into his seat, a faint blush still playing at the hem of his collar as he raised his hand and studied the palm of it thoughtfully.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "It's been a long time since I handled any tools, I'm not sure if I can remember how it's done…"

"The bigger reason to get back in there." Dean interjected. "If you like it then you shouldn't give it up. I bet it's just like riding a bike." He added encouragingly and Cas sent him a long, evaluating look, as if to figure out if Dean was being sincere or not and then he shrugged.

"Maybe," he said. "If I find my inspiration again..."

"That's the spirit." Dean commended, earning him an amused twitch of lips in return and for a split second they both shared a look across the table that simply made Dean's brain melt.

"You know what?" Dean cleared his throat, plucking the menu out of Castiel's hands. "I usually don't recommend ordering off the menu, but… this place has something special I want you to try." He waved at the waitress behind the counter who quickly joined them and he gestured to a point on the menu, holding a silent finger in front of his lips as a sign for her not to saying anything. From the corner of his eye he saw Cas' own eyes widen nervously when the waitress nodded and giggled, scribbling something down on her pad before she disappeared with a secretive little wink in Cas' direction.

"What did you do?" Cas asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously and Dean leaned back into his chair, a grin stretching all across his face.

"You'll see." He smiled, not caring that his answer probably did nothing but make the other even more nervous.

His choice of sustenance became evidently clear however after another fifteen minutes when the waitress returned with two of the biggest, tallest, most deliciously looking cheeseburgers ever to be plated in a restaurant and Dean's grin could have blacked out a sun when she placed the two plates down only to disappear and return with two large cokes and two beers shortly after.

Cas stared at the burger in front of him, seemingly stunned to silence, then up at Dean and then back at the plate.

"I'm supposed to eat this all by myself?" he gaped in disbelief and Dean chuckled.

"Hey, Sam did it once."

"Sam is a giant." Cas pointed out, slowly spinning his plate while trying to figure out how he was supposed to get a grip around the burger residing on top of it.

"You just wait until you taste it." Dean assured him, nudging Castiel's knife and fork closer to him. "But you should probably use these at first, or you'll end up ruining that sexy shirt of yours."

"You should watch your mouth Mr. Winchester." Cas responded quietly, glancing up at him through his eyelashes. "People might think you're coming on to me."

"Then let them think." Dean answered, quickly quenching the light flutter in his chest by turning his attention to his own his cheeseburger, knowing from experience that no matter how good the burger tasted, he still would not be able to eat the whole thing, but damn him if he wasn't going to try!

Half an hour and three quarters of a burger later Cas gave up, letting his fork and knife down with a faint clank and leaned back in his seat with a groan.

"Sweet Jesus!" he managed and on the other side of the table Dean laughed, finishing his last gulp of soda. He had abandoned hope on his own burger ten minutes earlier, but still with a new personal record now firmly settled under his belt.

"Told you." He grinned happily.

"I know, I just…" Cas groaned again. "Sweet Jesus…!"

"You lucky I told them to skip the desert." Dean pointed out and Castiel's eyes widened.

"There was supposed to be desert?" he choked out and Dean nodded slowly.

"Yup, one tall milkshake, layered with chocolate, strawberry and vanilla flavor. Complete with the cute little cherry on top." He winked and Castiel made a sound in the back of his throat as if he was about to die.

"What kind of inhuman being could possibly eat all of that?" he winced and Dean immediately began counting on his fingers.

"Well, there's my brother..." he started and then he got hit unceremoniously in the face by the napkin Cas tossed at him, making his serious face crumble into a laugh.

"Your brother is the biggest human being I've seen in my entire life." Cas muttered at him. "The fact that he's dating my Santa's Little Helper-sized brother is so disproportionate it's almost artistic."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Dean snorted, "It's not exactly the partner I had imagined for the Samsquatch, but hey, at least Gabe's not freaked out by his ridiculous height."

"Samsquatch?" Cas echoed, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth and Dean grinned.

"Yeah, it's a nickname I gave him when we grew up. He started outgrowing me when he hit his twenties and after that it's like his body never really called off the race."

"It's a good name." Cas nodded, sipping on his beer since the soda was since long gone.

"Yeah, it is." Dean plucked a little with his tableware and then he leaned closer over the table, suddenly remembered something. "By the way, who's Richard Speight?" he asked and Cas looked up, confusion and a slight hint of suspicion playing over his face for a few seconds before he understood why Dean asked.

"He's an old friend of Gabe's." he said. "They used to work at the theater together."

"Gabriel was into theater?" Dean asked in disbelief and Cas snorted, shaking his head.

"He worked there as a janitor a few years ago. Richard was one of the actors, he and Gabriel got along pretty well. Gabe and I used to help Richard run lines after hours sometimes. He was nice."

"So he's an actual person?" Dean wondered and Cas nodded.

"Oh, he's real. Last thing I heard he was in Canada doing some sort of long runner series for TV. _Super_-something. Apparently he had a pretty big role in it."

"So that's why you guys are so good at acting?" Dean asked, proud to have solved at least one mystery about the man before him, but at that Castiel just chuckled heartily.

"_Gabriel's_ good at acting." He clarified. "I couldn't even fake a headache."

"You sure?" Dean asked, his eyes settling firmly on Castiel's face. "Yesterday you seemed like quite the actor to me."

"Then perhaps I should move to L.A?" Castiel retorted cheekily. "Abandon my wood carvings and try my fortune in Hollywood instead?"

Dean pretended to think the suggestion over, but then he shook his head.

"Nah, I think I like the thought of you handling wood better." He decided with a leer and then he watched with satisfaction as Castiel's cheeks slowly tinted darker, the blush forming bright red circles over the ridge of his cheekbones and when Castiel tried to glare at him, Dean just threw his hands out to the sides, not feeling the slightest sorry.

"C'mon, you practically handed me that one." He defended himself and Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"I'm going to hear about that for the rest of my life aren't I?" he sighed tiredly.

"Would I do that to you?" Dean asked in feigned innocence.

"Yes." Cas answered, not even stopping to think twice about it and Dean dropped the innocent act with a shrug.

"Alright, so maybe I would." He admitted. "Still," he added, sending Cas a look from underneath his eyelashes, "doesn't mean I wouldn't be interested in seeing it."

"Your ability to deliver sexual innuendos is remarkable." Castiel pointed out with an annoyed grumble that sounded just a tad bit too amused to be genuine and Dean shrugged again.

"What can I say; you do things to me."

"Ditto…" Cas mumbled under his breath and Dean's heart made a violent flip in his chest, even though he tried his best no to read too much into that... Silence lowered itself over them for a few moments, the only sounds heard being the rattle of table wear and murmuring voices coming from the tables around them and then Dean cleared his throat, pointing a thumb to the bar.

"You want another beer?" he offered and Cas glanced at the untouched drink still sitting next to the other man's elbow.

"Only if you have one too." He countered, nodding towards the glass pointedly and Dean raised a skeptic eyebrow.

"I'm driving, remember?" he reminded politely.

"I'll call us a cab." Cas retorted and Dean winced.

"You shouldn't have to do that, night fare is expensive, man."

"I'm not going to sit here drinking by myself." Castiel stated firmly.

"Why not?" Dean objected. "I don't mind."

"I do."

A silent wrestling match between wills broke out over the table which lasted for a good ten seconds before Dean slumped, defeated back into his seat with a snorted out laugh.

"Alright, hotshot, you win." He admitted. "Beer and a cab it is."

"Good." Cas stood up from his seat, digging his wallet out from his back pocket. "Any requests?" he asked, waving a few bills in the direction of the bar and Dean's lips pursed for a second before he shrugged.

"I trust your good judgment." He answered with a wink and an appreciative look up and down the other's body. "I have a feeling you know _exactly_ what I want tonight."

Castiel's mouth fell open in something Dean suspected was meant to sound as a condescending snort, but which came out more like a shocked wheeze and his grin grew even more lewd, enjoying the other's flustered state. Then Cas seemed to regain control of his facial expressions once more as he gestured to the bar and mumbled something Dean couldn't hear and then quickly strode away, the bills curled tightly within the palm of his hand and with that adorable flushed color that Dean had developed a particular liking for tinting his cheeks.

Dean watched him go, chewing on his bottom lip while Castiel leaned over the counter to talk to the girl who had served them earlier. His eyes travelled up from the curve of dark jeans, looking exactly as hot as he had imagined, up to where the shirt had begun to ride up in the lower back, held in place only by the snug fit of the dark vest, followed the slender line of strong shoulders, dark curls of hair in the nape of the neck and when Cas turned his head to the side he could clearly see his eyes reflect the lights from the smoked light bulbs over the bar. Those blue, blue eyes…

He quickly went through the events of the past hour in the back of his mind and cursed when he realized that so far he hadn't been given anything that helped him with his predicament, except for the fact that he had found out that Cas was a genuinely funny, sexy guy with the same type of humor as himself, which honestly didn't do shit to help him decide whether he should go all in on this hunch of his or not and Dean had never been one for patience. He needed a question, _the_ question that would give him all the answers he needed, something that was so unique for Blue it wouldn't leave the shadow of a doubt behind once he heard the answer. But what the hell was he supposed to ask?

He turned his eyes back to Cas who was now handing over the money to the waitress and unconsciously his gaze slid back down the length of that muscular body and he sighed. To be completely honest, he had absolutely no idea how he would react if it turned out that he was wrong. That Cas was just… Cas, and that Blue was forever and irrevocably lost. Would he be able to let that go, start this new thing with Castiel as if he had never wished the guy to be someone else? Would he be able to do that and make it last? Or had Blue ruined him for the rest of mankind for the rest of his life? Would this be his curse, never be able to form relationships with anyone because there would always be something _missing_, spending his nights listening in on stranger's conversations, looking for a voice he knew wouldn't be there…

And wasn't that just the most infuriating thing of them all? Castiel's god damn _voice_!

There could not, under any circumstances, be two people in the same company, yet again the same _city_, with that voice! There just was no way! At first he hadn't thought much about it because honestly, the way the guy's voice had shifted key when they first met at Singer's Salvage, Dean simply thought the guy had a very nasty cold on his hands. But then, at Sam's… holy shit if there ever was a time for an inappropriate boner; that situation right there would have been it. The way Cas had made Sam's mouth just snap shut like that…? The only person Dean had seen do that to Sam was Bobby! And the power Dean had heard in that voice, in that precise moment… it couldn't be anyone else, it just _couldn't_. Dean had followed Cas into the kitchen for that sole reason, to see if he could coax that voice out again because God, how was he supposed to let that one go…? Asking Cas out, or, Cas asking him out, had seemed like a hint, like a god damn sign from _heaven_ and then Gabriel had said that thing in the elevator and maybe, just maybe…?

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, sending the beer by his side a hopeful glance before picking it up and swallowing down a few mouths full. It was a lukewarm, having lost its chill and he almost regretted not having drunk it earlier, but when he looked up he saw Cas come walking back, skillfully balancing two tall glasses of beer along with what appeared to be a bowl of nuts on a little tray with one hand and all thoughts of stale beer was firmly set aside as the other made his way effortlessly between the other tables.

"Wow, look at you being all snazzy with the drinks." he commented when Cas sat the tray down, placing the drinks out in front of their respective seats before sinking down back down into his own chair. "Were did you learn to juggle glasses like that?" he asked and Castiel shrugged.

"I had a job as a busboy at a bar downtown when I was young. Some nights when they were really crowded they needed help carrying out drinks so I stepped in. Two glasses like this is nothing to be impressed about."

Dean narrowed his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips and when Cas looked up a frown slowly etched into his brow when he saw the way Dean was looking at him.

"What?" he asked, a worried twinge to his voice and Dean leaned in even closer, lips pursing as if he was trying to figure out the answer to a very tricky riddle.

"I'm just trying to picture you in a bar, waiting on a bunch of drunken sport jocks." He said eventually. "It's difficult."

"I wasn't exactly wearing a suit at the time." Castiel objected. "And sport jocks weren't the customary clientele, I can assure you…"

"Then what kind of a bar was it?" Dean asked, raising his beer to his lips and Cas shrugged, mimicking the movement with his own glass.

"It was called The Hellhound, and as for what genre I believe 'slum' is the most appropriate categorization I can offer." He glanced up over the ridge of his glass and halted, finding Dean's eyes staring at him in unabashed disbelief, beer hanging untouched in front of his lips.

"You're kidding me." He mumbled and Cas scowled.

"I'm sorry?"

"_You_ worked at the Hellhound?"

"You've heard of it?" Castiel asked and Dean lowered his beer to the table.

"I've been there," he admitted. "Not my proudest moments. The booze is cheap and you never have to feel guilty if you accidentally break the furniture with someone's nose." He laughed, attempting to turn the sentence into a joke, but Cas didn't smile back, he just watched him silently, his head tilting slightly to the left as his eyes seemed to drill little holes in Dean's face.

"Sounds like you… break furniture often?" he said, and even though Dean could appreciate the diplomatic tone, the question beneath it was evidently clear.

"Like I said, not my proudest moments…" Dean muttered. "For the record I've only been there two times. First one was a couple of years ago. Me and Sam had a bit of a falling out… stupid really, but it seemed important at the time and I was angry. Got into a nasty fight with some moron called Gordon and ended up with two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder."

He paused and looked up, expecting to see a look of disapproval on Castiel's face, but the other just continued to hold his head tilted to the side and his eyes fixed on his, as if he was listening intently to every word that came out of his mouth.

"The owner, some guy people called Azazel, offered me a job as a bouncer as I tried to leave, but I said no." he continued slowly. "I didn't like the place and I got the fight I was looking for, but he wouldn't back off so I punched him in the face and broke his nose. Made my shoulder hurt like hell and all in all it was just a huge waste of time. I promised myself I wouldn't go back."

"But you did."

It wasn't an accusation. Castiel's voice was calm, steady in a way that seemed so familiar it made Dean's soul ache for the sound of trickling water echoing between tiled walls and his grip around his glass tightened, the memory of Blue suddenly hitting him in the chest like a sledgehammer.

"Yeah I did…" he confirmed silently. "About a month ago I had a bit of a set back and I… needed an outlet."

Castiel nodded and Dean finally took a drink from his beer, wondering silently if Castiel was aware that he wasn't just talking about the loss of his job here.

"So I went back. Apparently there's a new owner." He added, smoothly moving the subject away from the topic of him and felt relieved when Castiel didn't seem to mind the change. "Some guy called Crowley runs it now. He's fixed the joint up a bit, added a bit of class. It's still a hellhole, but not as bad as it used to be."

"There never was much hope for that place." Castiel agreed. "It attracts the wrong crowd. No offense," he added with a guilty look in Dean's direction and Dean smirked.

"None taken. At least I didn't work there." He added with a leer.

"Very funny." Castiel muttered, but there was no anger in his tone, just sarcasm and when Dean grinned over the brim of his glass Cas returned his smile with a light twitch of the lips.

"Still, it's a bit surreal don't you think?" Dean asked, putting his glass back down and wiping the foam off his upper lip with his thumb.

"What is?" Castiel asked.

"That you used to work there of all places? Considering where you're at right now it must feel like a lifetime ago..."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say a lifetime." Cas objected. "It's only been about twenty years."

"I know, I know… just… I mean… You started out as a busboy at a biker bar downtown and now you're a board member at one of the biggest cooperative companies in the city." Dean reached out, grabbing a handful of nuts from the bowl on the tray. "Your family must be proud." He added, as an afterthought and Cas' shoulders immediately tensed.

"To be honest I don't think my family cares that much about what I do." He mumbled and Dean frowned.

"What do you mean? Dude, your living room is bigger than my apartment! They must have something to say about that?"

Cas raised the beer to his lips, but lowered it again.

"Gabe and I…" he started, "We don't get along with the rest of our family that well. We haven't heard from them in years, so… they don't know what I do for a living, and even if they did they'd probably be pretty neutral to it."

"Well that sucks." Dean tried to make it sound like a carefree agreement, but behind the wall his mind was working on all cylinders now. So both Blue and Cas had issues with their families? Of course it was a long stretch, the city was filled with people who didn't get along with their supposedly loved ones, but still… this could be what he had been waiting for all night, and if he could just… without making it sound like an accusation...

"So that's why you worked as a busboy when you were a kid?" he asked silently, leaning in over the table so that he could lower his voice enough not to be heard by the surrounding patrons. Castiel looked up at him and Dean licked his lips, making sure he had the other's full attention.

"You ran away didn't you?" he breathed. "You and Gabriel?"

Cas suddenly looked absolutely terrified, his eyes going wide and his mouth falling open with a sharp intake of breath and Dean's excitement instantly switched into regret as he quickly returned to his seat, silently cursing himself for being such an insensitive dick, because of course there was no subtle way of asking such a question, of course he would only come off as an intrusive jerk!

"Sorry, that's none of my business." He apologized, "You don't have to answer that."

"No, I-… it's okay." Cas swallowed hard and Dean's lungs seized to function when he by straightening up in his seat, adopting a professional, almost stern facial expression that made him look both older and younger at the same time.

"Yes, we ran away." He said slowly and Dean could feel his head begin to spin off its axle.

_They ran away… Just like Blue and his brother, they ran away._

"That must have been tough…" he breathed out and Castiel nodded solemnly.

"We did what we could. Worked where we could… We managed." Blue eyes flickered up to meet with his. "I'm sorry, but would it be okay if we talked about something else for a while? The subject of my family has a tendency to put a damper on the good mood…"

Dean blinked, the guilt from before rushing in with renewed force.

"Yeah, no I get it, it's cool. Sorry for, you know, being so pushy about it."

"It's alright, you didn't know."

Dean opened his mouth, but closed it again just as quickly because he just didn't know how to respond to that. He knew… but at the same time he didn't. It was like having a story told but with the main character's name changed, which was very confusing because now he wasn't sure if he was listening to an alteration or a completely new set up? It wasn't exactly the same information he had been given by Blue, but then again Dean hadn't asked about how he and his brother had managed after they left their family. It had been more of a one way conversation, that whole thing and as of now, he might regret that he hadn't asked for more specific details back then, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. Right _now_ Dean had to find a different topic of conversation or this date would quickly plummet into a depressing disaster, whether this guy was Blue or not.

He cleared his throat, plucking with the peanuts in his hand.

"So how come you started working at Edenstar?" he asked tentatively and he silently thanked his lucky star when Cas visibly relaxed at the question.

"It was pure luck to be honest." He admitted modestly. "I managed to get hold of a summer job pushing the mail cart and things just sort of took off from there."

"C'mon, that can't be how it really happened." Dean laughed. "First a busboy, then a postal worker and after that straight on to board member?"

"Not exactly _that_ straight, but it's mostly true." Castiel pointed out. "I worked at the postal department three summers in a row. Learnt whose mail was most important, how to alter the mail round so that the right people got their things sorted out first, getting on a few people's good sides. Then when I turned eighteen one of the lower department managers offered me an assistant job and I took it."

"Lucky break." Dean commented and Cas laughed, shrugging.

"Well, mostly I think I got the offer because she wanted an opportunity to grab my ass more than twice a day, but still, it was a good job, and she had a sense of humor that I could appreciate. I learned a lot from her."

"And then what?"

"Same old story," Cas sighed, "I worked as an assistant for about five years, and when Heather got assigned another position higher in the company I took her place. And then I advanced, using my _dashing_ personality and my _irresistible_ charms until I was assigned the position I have now."

Dean could sense that there was a heap of sarcasm and self-loathing crammed somewhere into that sentence, but he decided to let it go, concentrating on moving the subject forward. Though he kept the information stored for later, cautiously adding another parallel line between Blue and Cas' personalities.

"And what position is that exactly?" he asked.

"Executive Marketing." Cas said and when Dean raised an eyebrow in question he added; "I'm a CMO, it stands for Chief Marketing Officer."

"Sounds more like one of those alphabet disorders to me." Dean grinned and Cas rolled his eyes at him.

"You're an ass." He muttered and Dean quickly retreated.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to be disrespectful or anything... So what does a Market Officer do exactly?"

"_Marketing_ Officer." Cas pointed out patiently. "And it's my job to handle sales, product development, distribution, advertising and market research. Amongst other things."

He looked at Dean expectantly, but when Dean just gave him a blank stare back he sighed and pulled his hand through his hair. It made some of the strands stand up in unruly spikes, but Dean decided not to say anything about it since… well he liked the disheveled look on Cas and if acting dumb could make the other pull more fingers through his hair like that then Dean had every intention of spending the rest of the evening being dumb as a post.

"Okay, then let's put it this way…" Castiel leaned in closer, folding both hands on the table. "If the company executives say that they have found a possible business partner in… let's say China, then I'm the person they send there to check it out and if possible, sign a contract with them." He looked up, seeking confirmation that Dean knew what he was talking about and when Dean nodded slowly he visibly relaxed. "Alright, so that's development and sales. Then there's the advertising. There's a department who makes the catalogues and ads, but I'm the one who tells them what product to use, what media they should go with and which market the ad is meant to reach."

Dean gave an impressed little whistle.

"That sounds like a butt full of work." He pointed out. "You must work late almost every day?"

"It happens." Cas admitted, lifting his beer. Dean leaned back, tossing a peanut into the air and catching it skillfully with his mouth as he watched the other take a deep gulp of the amber liquid.

"Gabe told me you've been staying behind a lot lately." He pointed out, keeping a close eye on the way Castiel's jaw seemed to clench in response to the statement.

"Yes I have." Castiel mumbled, the words muffled by the glass in front of his mouth. "Lots to do."

"You mean besides sneaking around after hours, breaking company rules?" Dean questioned with a smirk, receiving a sharp stare in return.

"You know," Dean clarified, "The scheme thing? With the codes?"

Castiel blinked and then he inhaled deeply, as if he up until that point had forgotten how to breathe properly.

"Oh." He said meekly. "Yeah, that… right."

"What?" Dean laughed, eyes narrowing dramatically, "You've been doing other kinds of sneaking lately?"

"No." Castiel answered quickly and then he shook his head, a little laugh falling from his mouth. "I mean, one scheme is perfectly sufficient for me.

"Spoken as a true rebel." Dean snickered, raising his glass in a toast. "To revolution." He declared solemnly and Cas mimicked the gesture with a smirk.

"And the end of the world as we know it." He added, making Dean chuckle.

"I'll drink to that." He stated firmly, raised the glass to his lips and drank down deeply, thusly completely missing out on the way Castiel's smile slowly fell off his face and how he then basically emptied his still untouched beer in five, very large, very nervous gulps…

/\/\/\/\/\/\

The cab driver, in Castiel's humble opinion, should definitely spend more time watching the road rather than the reflection of his passengers in the rear view mirror. So what if the two of them had been a bit loud when they climbed into the back seat? Dean had boisterously demanded the cabbie to drive them to a place called "The Roadhouse" so that Cas and he could share a few rounds of what Dean had previously named 'Purple Nurples', which in between the fits of laughter and half slurred words came out more like 'Phurfle Nhurfles'"than anything else. The fact that Cas objected by saying that it was late and they should call it a night instead, following his statement up by giving the cabbie his address didn't exactly make things better from a prude's point of view. And yes, they were maybe sitting a bit closer than what two guys usually did when sharing a cab, but at the moment Cas couldn't care less about homophobic cab drivers. Dean seemed to be of the same opinion because when the cabbie sent a glare at them through the mirror for the sixth time since they got in Dean answered by flamboyantly flipping his reflection off. Cas quickly yanked the offensive limb down by the elbow with a hissed out reprimand and after that they both dissolved into a fit of poorly contained laughter, hunching over in their seats with tears prickling the corner of their eyes for absolutely no good reason other than it was so _ridiculously funny_. They weren't really drunk, they had only had a total of three beers each after dinner, but for some reason everything seemed so nice, so carefree and perfect that exaggerating their buzzed state didn't feel the slightest unnatural. It felt good, letting go and not having to worry about the fact that his tie had twisted so that it was once again hanging backwards, that his unbuttoned trench coat flailed all over the worn leather seats and got stuck under Dean's foot when they climbed in or that he at the moment wouldn't be able to gather himself enough to pull off the look of a company board member even if his life depended on it. None of that mattered at the moment because right now it was him and Dean and he never wanted it to be any other way ever again, even though the cab driver obviously seemed willing to trade them both away for any other passenger in town, especially since Cas still hadn't removed his hand from Dean's arm and Dean was not making any attempts to suggest that he should.

By the time they arrived at Castiel's home his stomach was hurting from his attempts to stifle his laughter and his cheeks ached, eyes narrowed into teary slits as they stumbled out of the vehicle with the same finesse as they had stumbled in and Cas had barely reached the money towards the rolled down window of the driver's seat before the bills were ripped out of his hands and the taxi sped of down the road, apparently fed up with homos and their indecent, drunken behavior.

"Well, there goes my ride." Dean giggled and Cas leaned out into the road, following the sight of the disappearing tail lights with professional contemplation.

"Yes it does." He eventually decided and Dean pursed his mouth, nodding matter-of-factly as the car turned around a corner and vanished out of sight with a screech of tires.

"Gone and gone," he mumbled before turning to Cas who was still standing with one foot on the pavement and the other on the road, looking down the street as if he expected the cab to return if he just glared after it long enough.

"So…" Dean cleared his throat, making Castiel snap out of his glowering and turn around to face him, a light scowl appearing on his forehead as Dean brought a hand up to scratch his neck awkwardly. "You wanna say good bye down here or…?"

He left the rest unsaid with a quick glance to the building behind them and Castiel chuckled, reaching out and grabbing hold of Dean's jacket.

"I believe it's customary to say your good byes in front of the date's door?" he pointed out, walking backwards toward the entrance doors which lead into the open yard at the center of the building, the sleeve of Dean's jacket still in hand. "Besides, you'll have to wait for a new cab and it's warmer in my apartment."

"You sure?" Dean cocked a sarcastic eyebrow "It's only our first date. People might talk?"

"Then let them talk." Cas deadpanned and that was basically all the persuasion Dean needed.

The elevator ride up went quicker than what Cas would have liked, the two of them discussing the behavior of their charming cab driver with over exaggerated sarcasm that made Dean's eyes twinkle in a mischievous way that sent shivers up Castiel's spine.

The elevator doors opened and they both stepped out onto the open walkway stretching around the thirteenth floor. There were metal bars placed all around like a railing to prevent anyone from accidentally falling over and Castiel snickered when he noted how Dean very deliberately didn't look anywhere near the ledge as they made their way to his door.

"Scared of heights?" he asked casually and Dean gave a nervous little chuckle behind him.

"Nah, the height doesn't bother me… the fall down seems a bit nasty, though."

Castiel grinned; his hand reaching into his pocket for the keys, but the soft jingle was soon followed by a much louder clang when the bundle of metal slipped between his fingers and hit the concrete walkway by his feet.

"Typical." Cas muttered and bent down to get them, but alas, great minds think alike and when Dean bent over to do the same their heads collided brutally, sending both men staggering backwards with similar cries of pain.

Dean groaned, grappling around his forehead where Castiel's skull had struck and Castiel leaned against the wall, hissing as he rubbed the back of his head with soothing, circular motions. One short glance at each other later they both started laughing again, the situation too comical to resist and Cas slowly picked the keys up, wincing a little when the movement made his head spin.

"Well, I suppose that's a kiss as good as anyone," he chuckled, straightening up and turning back towards Dean. "I'm not saying it couldn't be more romanti-"

That's about as far as he got before the keys fell to the ground once more, his breath catching in his throat and the world slowing to a complete standstill that seemed to last for an eternity, the reality swallowed up by the insistent press of Dean's lips as they moved against his own. Then his hands are suddenly grappling for the collar of Dean's jacket and next thing he's shoved up against his door, Dean's tongue inside his mouth and everything's short circuiting as he hears and feels Dean groan against his lips, sweet vibrations travelling down and settling in the pit of his stomach like an earthquake. Dean tastes like peanuts, salt and beer, and the taste blends together with the scent of his skin, the faint sensation of that familiar sandal wood shampoo that sends Castiel's head into a whirl of desire that makes his heart stop dead in his chest and he moans, can't help the sounds that punching out of his lungs and Dean approves, the hard press of his body trapping Cas against the vertical surface behind him. Oh god, what was he supposed to do with himself? Hands, what were hands? Did he even have any, he couldn't remember? Dean had hands at least, that was always something. He could feel them, big and strong against his hips as they pushed him back, pulling him in, mimicking the slow rocking of their tongues in a way that was so perfect, so downright _filthy_ it couldn't be anything other than amazing and it was getting too dangerous, he could feel it creeping up on him slowly, clawing at him from the inside out because Dean had to go, he had to leave right now or so help him Cas would not be able to make him. He felt Dean's fingers snake their way around to his back and under his shirt where it had ridden up and he broke the kiss with a shudder when a single finger began dragging lazy circles against the curve of his back, grabbing hold of Dean's lower arms and slowly pulling them off.

"Easy there, tiger," he scolded breathlessly, still with his eyes closed and he could feel the light puff of air caused by Dean's laughter ghost across his lips in response.

"Too soon?" he mumbled and Cas suppressed a shudder when he found that those lips were actually close enough to brush against his when Dean spoke.

"About two dates too soon," he confirmed, gasping when Dean's mouth dipped in to give him a quick, close to chaste kiss on the lips before pulling off and away completely. The chilly night air that rushed in where Dean's body had been only moments ago almost made him change his mind, but Dean was already stepping backwards, pointing his thumb over his shoulder while grinning like a first rate idiot.

"So, I'm just going to, you know, wait for the cab downstairs." He rambled and Cas nodded, still a bit too stunned out of his mind to come up with a proper response.

"I'll call you, tomorrow, not tonight, you probably want to…. Sleep. Or whatever, that's not really my business. And I know there's supposed to be some kind of a three day rule, but I don't think we have to wait that long, right? Unless you want to wait?" he added hurriedly and Cas couldn't help but laugh because Dean was actually behaving more confused than Cas himself felt.

"You can call me tomorrow," he nodded and Dean smiled back.

"Alright! Great…! Well then… uh, good night I guess. Sleep tight, or you know, whatever."

Dean turned around with a little wave and promptly managed to smack his knee hard into one of the bannister mounted trashcans with a metallic clang that reverbed through the steel handrail throughout the entire floor and it took everything Castiel had not to burst out in another uncontrolled fit of laughter when Dean grabbed hold of the railing, desperately trying to mute the ruckus only to reel back in panic when he found himself standing on the very edge of the abyss opening up below him.

"Sorry!" he called out, still grinning, but with a nervous flicker of his eyes towards the rail. "Sorry…! I'm okay, I'll call you!"

And with that he disappeared down the flight of stairs, seemingly completely forgetting that there was an elevator at hand and Cas had to forcefully tell himself to get a grip when he pushed the handle down on the door in an attempt to get into his apartment, not remembering that the keys were still lying harmlessly on the ground until he had almost dislocated his shoulder trying to force the door open. He was _not_ drunk, damn it! He had heard about the term 'kissed silly', but this was just… _too_ silly!

Once the door was locked behind him, the trench coat hung up and his shoes had been neatly placed in the shoe rack by the door Cas slumped against the wall in the hallway, feeling a hysteric giggle bubble up his throat because holy shit….

Dean _kissed_ him. And he kissed Dean _back_.

His fingers slowly came up to brush against his lower lip where the phantom feeling of Dean's lips still lingered and he huffed out a laugh, leaning his head back to thud against the wall, wincing when the lump from the collision outside made itself known. The grey tie was still lying in front of the mirror where he had left it and even though he tried he still couldn't remember why he had picked it out in the first place. How could he ever have considered wearing something other than the tie Dean had put on him? Oh god, Dean actually picked out and _dressed_ him, and they had _kissed_, actually _kissed_ and _oh god_…

The next second Cas is almost startled out of his own skin because there's a firm knock on the door and Castiel turned to stare at the door handle while the various image of robbers and thieves took a few moments to flash through his brain, but then he shook those thoughts away because seriously, how many thieves bothered to knock on the door before they robbed you?

That said, it wasn't without a healthy dose of wariness that he stepped forward and unlocked the door, hesitantly opening it only to find Dean leaning against the doorframe, the goofy smile from before now wiped off his face and looking a whole lot more sober than he had only minutes ago.

"Dean?" he started, "What are you-?"

"What did you call me?"

The temperature of Castiel's body instantly dropped below freezing point.

"What…?" he whispered, but Dean held out a hand, silencing him.

"You called me Tiger… didn't you?"

_Easy there, tiger…_

Oh shit…

Oh holy shit…!

"Yes." Cas grated out. "Yes I did, I-"

Before he could say anything else, before he could brush it off by calling it 'a matter of speech', Dean had already pushed past him, into the apartment and Cas found himself closing and locking the door behind him on pure reflex because what else was he supposed to do?

When he turned around he found Dean standing in the middle of the hallway, back towards him with one hand defiantly set on his hip and the other rubbing slowly over his mouth, looking both terrifying and vulnerable at the same time. Cas knew he should say something, that he would be _required_ to say something, but for the life of him, he couldn't come up with a single sentence, the cold spreading from his chest slowly threading icy fingers through his veins to freeze him to the spot, his mind going numb because what had he done, what had he _done_…?!

"Alright…" Dean rumbled out, throwing the hand that had been rubbing circles over his lips out to the side. "I can't do this anymore…."

"Dean, I don't-"

"Just..." Dean snapped; his voice cracking. "Just cut the crap... Okay? Just… tell me it's you."

Castiel couldn't feel his pulse anymore, which meant that he was probably already dead or dying, but when he didn't answer Dean turned around and no, he couldn't be dead yet because ghosts didn't have knees that could buckle, and the sight of the emotions he saw shining in those green eyes made his entire body tremble when Dean took a step towards him, his boots heavy on the wooden floor.

"Tell me it's you." He repeated. "And not just me going out of my mind."

"Dean…"

"God damn it, Cas, either you know what I'm talking about or you don't!" Dean's eyes flashed hard and Castiel's mouth shut with a faint click of teeth. "Now tell me if it's you or so help me god I'm-!" he cut himself off and the hand came back up to rub over his now closed mouth, once again adopting that look of complete helplessness that cut into Castiel's heart like a razor. His thoughts were scrambling around his head, making the world spin and he had to fix his eyes on a spot in between his feet on the carpet to keep himself steady.

He screwed up… After all this time he managed to screw it up. One slip of the tongue and here he was, the crossroad he had feared since the moment Dean had crowded him inside that god forsaken garage. This was it. Right here and right now and Castiel was crumbling, slowly falling apart because how could he ever… how was he supposed to…?

"Yes."

He heard Dean's breath seize when he said it, and he forced his head up, willing his eyes to go with the movement until they locked on to Dean's face and he swallowed hard, sending one last, desperate plea to a God he had since long abandoned that he would survive this before he opened his mouth again, the words falling off the edge of his tongue in a quiet whisper…

"Hello, Tiger."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_**I SWEAR TO GOD AND TO CHUCK AND TO THE WHOLE OF CREATION THAT I DID NOT DO THIS ONE ON PURPOUSE!**_

_**I KNOW I'M THE QUEEN OF CLIFFHANGERS BUT I REALLY TRIED TO SQUEESE IT ALL INTO A SINGLE CHAPTER BUT IT WAS AN ABSOLUTE DISASTER!**_

_**Trust me, from a fangirl's point of view, you do NOT want these next scenes to be rushed and cut down just to make it fit into this chapter as well. It's already 25 pages long and usually my chapters are only about 13…so I tried, I really did!**_

_**Now, with that said, I am going to go hide for a while, because I'm expecting death threats from every single one of you and I need to gather myself for the onslaught. **_

_**And…uhm….I love you…?**_

/\/\/\/\/\/\


	13. Chapter 12

"_Tell me it's you." He repeated. "And not just me going out of my mind." _

"_Dean…"_

"_God damn it, Cas, either you know what I'm talking about or you don't! Now tell me if it's you or so help me god I'm-"_

"_Yes." _

_He heard Dean's breath seize when he said it, and he forced his head up, willing his eyes to go with the movement until they locked on to Dean's face._

"_Hello, Tiger."_

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Son of a bitch…"

Castiel flinched, expecting to hear anger and hurt in Dean's voice, but to his growing horror he was instead faced with a void; a vast nothing that grasped around his soul with deadly cold fingers, crushing him slowly. The sentence itself was numb; choked out as if the words were fighting to stay in the back of the other man's throat and Castiel wished he could find a way to chase the tortured expression away from Dean's face and clear the dimness from his eyes because they _scared_ him, scared him more than anything he had ever encountered in his life.

The hallway fell silent, the low sound of their breathing the only thing disrupting the air. Dean was staring out into open space, eyes flickering from left to right while his lips opened and closed without sound, searching for words that wouldn't come and Castiel was studying the carpet by his feet, shame like a lump in his throat because this was not how he had intended things to go…

"How long have you known…?"

The sudden gravel of Dean's voice made him jerk and he sent a crestfallen glance at Dean from the corner of his eye before letting his gaze fall back to the floor.

"Since Singer's Salvage." he confessed silently, the sound of is own betrayal echoing within the name alone. "I knew it was you from the moment you opened your mouth…"

"Son of a bitch…." Dean's words were repeated once more through gritted teeth, but still without the expected purpose of causing harm or insult, just shock and disbelief slithering between the syllables like a traitorous snake. Castiel could see the weight on Dean's feet shift back and forth and he heard the shuddered breath Dean let out before he spoke again; hot, angry words now slicing into Castiel's soul like blades against his skin.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me...?"

"I wanted to." He whispered, forcing himself to look up, to face the fury he was sure to find in Dean's eyes.

"You wanted to…." Dean repeated, his hand coming up to rub across his mouth in a twitchy, angry motion. "You've known all this time and that's all you've got to say?"

"I know," Castiel winced. "I know and I'm so, so sorry. I wanted to tell you so many times..."

"Then why didn't you?" Dean's eyes grew hard, his voice slicing the air; so loud, so _angry_. "Why couldn't you just open your god damn mouth and _tell_ me!?"

"Dean, I-"

"I was right _there_, Cas!" Dean yelled. "I was there _all along_ and you could have told me any time you wanted! At Bobby's… at Sam's, hell you could have told me _tonight_! We had _hours_ were it was just you and me and you didn't even-!"

He cut himself off, dragging his hand hard over his eyes and Cas didn't know what to do. Dean was right, of course he was right. Castiel had been able to come clean from the very start and god knows he had been given plenty of chances and he still hadn't done a thing.

"I didn't know how to say it..." he mumbled, "I didn't know if you- how you would _react_... For all I knew you would be angry about me finding out who you were and swear that if it hadn't been for Gabriel-"

"Hold on a minute." Dean stared at him, holding out his hand to cut him off. "_Gabriel_?! _Gabe_ knows about this?!"

"Yes…" Castiel straightened up, because this, at least, he could admit to. "I told him."

"You _told_ him?!" Dean winced and Castiel scowled.

"My brother is smarter than you give him credit for." He pointed out sharply, suspecting what it was Dean was getting at. "Once he realized that I was depressed over a relationship gone wrong he figured most of it out by himself."

"How the hell could he _figure it out_?" Dean objected. "People don't just _figure out_ things that's none of their business, Cas!"

"He got worried!" Castiel snapped back, "and when Sam started talking about how you were behaving he put two and two together and the next thing I knew someone syphoned the gasoline out of my tank and… well, the rest I think you know." he ended, throwing his hand out towards Dean who nodded, lips thinning down into a hard line.

"Yeah… yeah I remember…"

Castiel sighed, leaning back heavily against the wall once more and Dean crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. The apartment went silent again, its height and thick windows preventing the sounds from the traffic below to reach inside and even though Castiel was used to it he had never experienced the silence as suffocating as he did right now. Dean's anger was like a crushing weight against his body, pushing him against the plaster of the wall like an invisible force. His hands were trembling, adrenaline coursing through his system with a vicious, gut wrenching speed that left his insides shaking and he felt nauseous, his stomach turning over and the lump in his throat was still there, suffocating him slowly as he tried to wrap his mind about what was happening, what was going to happen now…

"You really were depressed?"

Castiel's gaze made a quick flicker in Dean's direction, turning away just as fast when he met the hard look out of the corner of Dean's eyes.

"Yes." He mumbled quietly "At least that's what Gabriel called it."

"Over me?"

"Yes… "

Admitting that shouldn't feel as embarrassing as it did, not when he knew how Dean himself had been behaving lately, but standing there, saying it out loud like that… He knew that he had in no way made himself worthy of any protection or cover, but at the moment he felt so exposed and naked, tossed into the spotlight like a convict in waiting for the jury's ruling and damnit, he didn't want it to end like this! Dean deserved to hear the reason to his actions, even if an explanation didn't hold any form of forgiveness in store for Castiel himself. He _owed_ him that.

"I wanted to tell you," he mumbled and he felt the weight of Dean's eyes land on him, the glare of the spotlight focusing even harder. "When Gabe took me to that garage I had no idea that you would be there. I swear, had I just been given time to prepare, to think about how I would say it I would have told you who I was the moment Gabe left."

"You could have told me at Sam's." Dean deadpanned, unforgiving. "We were alone in his kitchen for ages and I even- for fuck's sakes, I _told_ you! You were right there and I _told_ you that I-"

"And both our brothers were in the very next room." Castiel interrupted quietly, taking the edge of Dean's yelling before it grew even louder. "If you would have taken the reveal of my true identity the wrong way… I don't know if you've noticed, but the story of how we met isn't exactly the kind you want to share with the grandchildren, even less your siblings."

"What difference would that have made?" Dean muttered. "Gabriel already knew."

"Sam didn't."

"You think I care if Sam knows about what we've been doing?!" Dean snapped. "I don't give a fuck about what he thinks. Or what anybody thinks! I cared about _you _and the only reason I didn't tell Sam about us when he asked was because it was none of his _business_! Damn it, Cas…" He pulled a frustrated hand through his hair. "I mean, what did I do to make you think I didn't want you back? Huh? What did I _do_?!"

"Nothing." Cas shook his head. "You did nothing."

"But then _why_?!"

"Dean, I am a social disaster!" Cas winced, throwing his hands out to his sides in a helpless gesture that made Dean's brow furrow in confusion when he continued. "I come into a relationship and I destroy _everything_!" He grated, his voice choking in his throat. "And by telling you, right there and then who I was I would without a doubt have destroyed everything, _again_. Even during the best case scenario I would only have ended up ruining us both!"

"_That's_ what you think?" Dean gaped. "That after all this time you would mess it up by being _honest_?!"

"We were supposed to be a _fling_, Dean!" Castiel tried to explain, frustration tearing at his vocal chords. "A strange, unconventional, messed up _fling_ and I didn't know if you would- If _we_ would-" He groaned, swallowing hard as he grappled for the right words to use, but his mind was blank and he had nothing, absolutely nothing to express what he was trying to say.

"I suppose it's my curse in life." He mumbled… "I'm simply not meant to keep relations..."

"You stupid son of a bitch."

Castiel's mouth shut with a faint click of teeth, the hiss of Dean's voice making him want to cower into himself and Dean himself looked as if he was ready to punch him in the face, hands balled into white-knuckled fists by his sides.

"I thought I was losing my mind!" Dean growled. "I thought I was imagining things… _hearing_ things, I-… just the sound of your _voice_…!"

All color left Castiel's face then, his heart turning into a bucket of ice in his chest.

"You recognized my voice…?" he whispered and Dean snorted out a harsh laugh.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked. "You don't think your voice had me second guessing myself over and over whenever I was near you? You don't think I spent _hours_ trying to figure out what the hell was _wrong_ with me? Asking myself why being around you made me feel-…"

Dean swallowed hard and Castiel's eyes glued themselves to the carpet once more because it _hurt_ to see Dean like this, the emotions playing over his face with painful clarity, unrestraint and disordered.

"I told myself I was being an idiot." Dean continued. "That your voice was similar, but not really the same… and then you stepped in and took command of the situation at Sam's that night and I _heard_ it… fuck, I didn't know what to do with myself, just the thought that it could actually be you…"

"What did I do to make you think-?" Cas started but Dean cut him off with a snort

"What did you _not_ do?" he asked, "Man, you laughed at the oldest Star Wars joke in the book! And then you got pissed when I accused you of driving a company car… With the tap running and the water sloshing down the sink in the background I could have sworn-…" He bowed his head. "I couldn't stop thinking about you after that. Both of you." He added and Cas knew from the tone of his voice that he was talking about Blue. "I compared the two of you in my head, made a fucking _list_ of the things that added up and the things that didn't… but I figured that if it was _you_, if it really, _really_ was you, then how come you didn't recognize me back? Even when I said I missed you and wanted to see you again you did nothing…" He looked up, and this time there was only questions in his face.

"Why didn't you do anything?" he asked silently, the pained look in his eyes making Castiel want to stab himself.

"I was scared." he whispered. "I never thought I would see you again and then suddenly you were here, alive and _real_ and I panicked! I didn't want you to think that I was some kind of stalking nutcase and… I figured that getting to keep you around as a friend was a better alternative than telling you the truth and risk losing you for a second time."

Dean's brow furrowed.

"What are you talking about, you didn't _lose_ me."

"You told me to stay away." Castiel snapped. "You told me that your problems with the company were none of my concern and then you walked out. _You_ left _me_, Dean!" He shook his head, turning his eyes away. "I would have followed you anywhere and you left me…"

"To keep you safe!" Dean objected loudly.

"I did not need _protection_, I needed _you_." Cas snarled, but retreated directly after. "I still do…" he confessed silently.

"Really?" Dean quipped, and even though it sounded more like sarcasm than an honest question Castiel answered it anyway.

"Yes." He mumbled and after a few moments of silence he heard Dean shift and take a step forward.

"_You_ need _me_?" he repeated, as if he expected there to be a lie in there somewhere.

"Yes…" Castiel hissed and in his lungs the air seemed to shrink, feeling as if a fist had been stretched into his chest and _squeezed_, Dean's eyes seeking out his with the intensity of a sharpened blade.

"Why?"

Cas froze and looked away, but Dean inclined his head to catch and hold his gaze.

"Why do you need me, Cas?" he demanded, stepping closer and by now he was just a few feet away; Cas could reach out and touch him if he wanted to and Dean, oh god, came even _closer_, his one hand coming up to rest against the wall just next to Castiel's head and then he leaned in and Castiel had to close his eyes when he felt the warm puff of breath against his neck.

"Tell me why you need me." Dean breathed against his ear and Castiel's breath hitched when he felt another hand come up to drag a lone finger along the silk of his tie. "Is it because I turn you on?" he whispered. "Because I can make you feel good in ways no one else can?"

Castiel gulped, attempting to clear his mind from the daze Dean's proximity caused to fill his head, because he could still hear the anger in Dean's voice and right now he wasn't asking if Castiel had enjoyed the fantasies they had voiced to each other in the shower room; he was asking if they were the _only_ things he had enjoyed and that was not true!

"No!" he rasped.

"No?" Dean pulled back, a surprised frown etching into his brow and Castiel shook his head.

"No." he repeated and opened his eyes, fixing them on Dean's with a glare and the accusing weight of Dean's hand against his chest lightened. For the longest time they stood like that, staring each other down and Castiel looked at Dean's face, taking in the green depths of the eyes before him, the sharp rise of cheekbones and the soft curve of lips, knowing that this could be the last time he would ever be this close to them again.

"I need you… because without you…"

"Yes…?" Dean whispered, and Castiel wished, wished so badly that this would not be the end of things, that this final truth would not cost him whatever minuscule chance he might have had with this.

"Without you…" he breathed. "I'm afraid I might actually end up killing myself... " He looked away, not wanting to see as the look of disgust and rejection appeared on Dean's face. He knew it sounded dramatic and over exaggerated, but just the thought of carrying on with his life as if nothing happened, living day by day without Dean by his side made him feel close to claustrophobic, cold sweat breaking out on his skin and drowning his mind in panic because how was he supposed to survive a fate like that now when he knew what he had lost?

"I understand that it won't change anything…" he mumbled and when the touch of Dean's hand left his chest completely his eyes started burning because even though he had expected that to happen it still _hurt_, the pain ripping into his soul with poisoned fangs that oozed scorching venom into the wounds.

"I'm sorry it ended like this." He whispered, and if he listened hard enough he was sure he could hear his heart chink and crack inside his chest when Dean straightened up, most likely to leave. He wanted to look up, wanting one last glance at the man who had brought his life to this miserable state, but his mind did not have the strength to govern his body, the pain of seeing Dean walk out of his life being far too strong.

Then without warning there were hands grabbing around both sides of his face, forcing his head up and then Dean's mouth was on his, full lips swallowing up the startled gasp rushing out of his lungs with a greedy growl as he shoved him up against the wall so hard it caused the small photo frame next to Castiel's head to rattle loudly.

Castiel's hands came up to grab around Dean's wrists in surprise and confusion, and when Dean pulled back those green eyes of his were closed, mouth hanging open and heavily panting as the taller man pressed his forehead against Castiel's own, fingers curling gently into the hair by his temples.

"Well… Sorry to disappoint, but I'd rather have you…" Dean hissed, and when he opened his eyes to lock onto Castiel's from beneath dark lashes Cas' stomach drew together tight, his hands grappling for the sleeves of Dean's jacket when Dean leaned in once more, his lips stopping just a hairs width away from Castiel's own, their foreheads still pressed together.

"Cursed or not." He added and Castiel shivered, feeling the heat of Dean's breath against his mouth, but he didn't understand what was happening. Why was Dean still here and why was he-…?

"Dean…?" he whispered, but Dean shook his head.

"Cas…" he breathed, hot air tickling Castiel's lips, "I need you too, you stupid bastard... I _need_ you, do you understand me?"

Castiel wanted to shake his head, to tell Dean that no, he didn't understand, didn't understand it at all because how could Dean even stand the sight of him; after seeing what a pathetic coward he was, how could he stand there and say that he _needed_ him? But instead he felt his head move in the light grip of Dean's hands, managing a stuttering nod that might has well have been a shudder, but Dean seemed to get he point because he released him, the fingers of his left hand sliding down to tickle the nape of his neck beneath his collar and this time Cas really shuddered; a vicious tremble travelling through his whole body, his tongue swiping out to moisture his dry lips as he tried to will his mind back into focus.

"So… what happens now?" he eventually managed, releasing the leather of Dean's jacket, expecting the other to move back, but instead Dean simply tilted his head slightly to the left, causing their brows to rub together in something Cas interpreted as a shrug.

"What do you want to happen?" he mumbled.

"What do _you_ want?" Cas countered and Dean sighed, leaning to the side so that his head moved away from Castiel's and instead came to a rest against the wall next to his shoulder.

"Honestly…?" Dean mumbled into his shirt. "I have no fucking idea."

Well, Castiel could sympathize with that…

"Then what _don't_ you want?" he asked instead.

"Leave." Dean answered immediately and Castiel's hands clutched into fists by his sides, taking a deep breath as he attempted to keep himself from trembling.

"Then don't." he offered silently. "Stay here."

"You'd be okay with that?" Dean actually sounded surprised, as if he had thought Castiel would reject him and throw him out, which was probably the most bizarre thing Castiel had ever heard.

"Of course." he whispered and Dean chuckled, his right hand moving in to rest against the wall next to Castiel's waist.

"I'll sleep on the couch." he offered and Cas nodded, a smile of his own slowly creeping over his lips.

"We'll come up with something," he promised and after that they went quiet again. Dean was still slotted up against him, the heat of skin seeping through their clothes, slowly thawing the block of ice that had been lodged in Castiel's gut for the past twenty minutes. The other's fingers were still brushing slow, feathery strokes against his neck and Castiel soon found himself close to panting in Dean's arms, the light tickle growing increasingly distracting and when Dean sighed contently right next to his ear he felt as if his legs had been stolen away from beneath him.

"Dean…?" he said silently and Dean sighed again, pressing in a bit closer, now using the full weight of his body to efficiently crowd Castiel against the wall, causing a fire that had nothing to do with body heat to spark low in Cas' gut.

"Mhm?" he mumbled drowsily and Castiel swallowed, because as much as he liked what was going on here there was still something that he needed to know before he lost complete control of himself.

"Sleeping quarters aside… what do you suppose happens now? With us…?"

The hand on his neck stilled, Dean's breath sounding low and steady against his ear, rising goose bumps all over his body as he held his breath, waiting for an answer.

"I'm still mad at you for not telling me the truth." Dean confessed after a while, and Castiel's heart sank. "But, when I think about it, I'm to blame for this mess just as much as you are. I mean, I could have asked you who you were just as easily as you could have told me… So I guess that makes us partners in crime."

"Does that mean that we're good?" Castiel asked and next to his ear Dean let out a low chuckle.

"It means that we'll probably need to talk… but not tonight."

Castiel nodded and Dean sighed, dragging in a slow breath through his nose.

"Damn you smell good…" he moaned, making Castiel genuinely smile and then his heart almost came crashing out of his chest when Dean suddenly leaned in, nuzzling against his neck and when Dean's mouth found and latched onto his pulse just below his jaw the hands that had been idle and lax by his sides shot up to grasp around Dean's shoulders with a gasp.

Dean's lips moves slowly, worshiping his skin as they rose higher, leaving a pattered trail of kisses up his neck, over his jaw and then up to the corner of his mouth.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited to get you like this?" he rasped against his lips and Castiel nodded, his eyes fluttering shut because yeah, he had a pretty good idea and Dean let out a helpless wince against his cheek.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" He whispered. "Right out of my mind… even like this…"

Castiel groaned, feeling Dean's words run hot over his face and the grip of Dean's jacket in his hand tightened when Dean pulled back to look him in the eye.

"Cas?"

"Yeah…?"

"Would it be okay if I kissed you again?" he whispered and in return Castiel let out a breathless laugh.

"Don't ask stupid questions…" he scolded lightly and then Dean's lips were back on his and his world slowly began to melt into a haze around him.

It was a slow kiss; tender and almost hesitant, only lips touching and pressing for what seemed like ages until Dean's tongue finally made a slow, tentative swipe over his lips and Castiel opened up, allowing him inside with an encouraging moan. Dean licked into his mouth, hot and slow like fire, making every nerve in his body crackle and he eagerly returned the favor, feeling something in his brain snap when Dean moaned into the kiss. His hands slid up to run fingers through the short hair on the back of Dean's scalp and Dean's entire body quivered, his grip on Castiel's neck flexing and then there was a careful nudge against his leg when Dean's knee sneaked in between his and pushed up, making Cas' bite down over his own lower lip to stifle the embarrassing loud moan that threatened to escape him.

Everything moved tortuously slow, their hips grinding, finger's curling, breath mingling; silently, steadily, yet _heavy_ in a way that was absolutely maddening and when one of Dean's hands suddenly dropped down to grab hold of Castiel's hip and push them even closer Cas let out a low growl from the back of his throat, tipping his head back against the wall with a loud thud. Dean's mouth immediately returned to suckle on his neck, teeth gracing his skin and making his breath hitch, his entire body screaming out for _more_.

"Hey Cas…?" Dean breathed and Cas groaned in response, tugging at Dean's hair to pull him away from his neck and up for another kiss, but Dean remained where he was, the lobe of Castiel's ear slipping in between his lips with a low suckle.

"I realized..." he whispered, "…that there's one more thing I don't want."

"Wha-…" Castiel swallowed down a gasp when Dean's teeth started nibbling on the flesh in his mouth. "What?"

"Sleep on the couch…." Dean mumbled and Castiel felt the shackles around his self-restraint snap open with a sharp pang.

"Oh thank god…!" he groaned breathlessly and then Dean got shoved away so fast he barely had the chance to let go of Castiel's hip, Castiel following and catching him by the lapels of the jacket and pushing him up against the opposite wall as Dean stumbled backwards, his tongue thrusting inside the taller man's mouth with an eagerness that startled even himself. The roughness of Castiel's kiss seemed to catch Dean off guard as well, but he quickly got the hang of the new rules as he straightened up and allowed Cas to slide the jacket off his shoulders and throw it to the floor by their feet, but when Cas moved on to tear at the knot of his own tie Dean stopped him, forcefully prying his hands away from the black and red silk.

"Don't even think about it." He growled, grabbing hold of the tie himself and using it to pull Cas close. "_I_ put that on; _I_ decide when it comes off."

"You're planning to fuck me with the tie around my neck?" Cas threw back and for a moment the two of them seemed to lose track of what they were doing, both a bit startled to hear their intentions voiced out that bluntly, but then Dean's lips parted in a wolfy grin, his hand giving the tie a teasing tug.

"Well, that's one idea…" he smirked, "As I recall we had some pretty interesting conversations regarding that blue tie of yours."

Castiel closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose because he could definitely recall those conversations and the memory brought a close to painful flare of lust to spark in his groin.

"We did," he agreed and Dean nodded, swiping his thumb up and down the tie in his hand before looking down at it.

"But that was the blue tie and sadly, this one's black." He pointed out, hooking a finger in the already loosened knot, "and that just won't do…"

"It definitely won't." Castiel agreed and then the tie slithered off his neck and landed on the floor on top of Dean's leather jacket.

"Where's your bedroom?" Dean nipped at his lip.

"Second door to the right." Cas breathed back and Dean nodded, pulling away and tugging at Castiel to follow him. The journey through the apartment was quick, but somehow Castiel's vest still managed to get lost on the way somewhere between the living room and the bathroom and when they arrived at the bedroom door Dean's shirt was already hanging open, his black tie nowhere to be seen as the two of them stumbled through the doorway in a haphazard jumble of clothes, hands, mouths and patches of naked skin.

Castiel's hand slid over a small control panel next to the door and after a few attempts that were partially ruined by Dean's groping fingers he managed to turn on the lights of the two, dimmed table lamps on either side of the bed. As they broke apart Dean tried to get his shirt off and toss it aside in one, fluid motion, but ended up cursing silently when the cuff of his left sleeve got caught in his watch, turning his casual flick into a violent flapping of fabric instead.

"Smooth move," Castiel commented with a smirk when Dean finally managed to free himself from the garment, popping the buttons of his own shirt as he spoke and Dean sent him a quick glare that morphed into a mischievous grin when he stepped forward and grabbed him around the waist. The next second he was tugging the shirt out of Castiel's pants and pulling over the other's head at the same time as he spun them around and shoved, coming out on top, straddling Cas' waist on the big bed standing in the middle of the room, trapping Castiel's arms in the red fabric over his head.

"Not as smooth as that one." He grinned, tugging at the shirt and in return Castiel bucked his hips, making Dean lose his balance and fall over, just barely avoiding to do a full on faceplant on top of Cas' chest.

"You were saying?" Cas quipped and Dean released the shirt with a grin, allowing Castiel to tangle free before he dove down for a new kiss, breathing out a chuckle against Castiel's lips.

"So what do you think? Am I going to see some of that wood handling skills of yours tonight?" He finished the sentence by shamelessly grinding his hips down and Castiel of course had no problem figuring out what the pun was about, but he wasn't innocent enough not to pretend that he didn't.

"You already have." He said instead and Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, making Castiel smirk. "You're lying in it." He clarified and he could literally see the moment his words got through and Dean got what he meant.

"You made your own bed?" Dean asked incredulously, sitting up higher to look at the large, oak headboard in front of him.

"One of my more ambitious projects." Castiel admitted and Dean nodded, undoubtedly impressed.

"Ambitious being the right word." He agreed and then he looked down at Castiel again, raising a teasing brow at him. "So… " he asked, "You ever had sex in this bed before?"

"I never had occasion." Castiel admitted.

"Then what do you say about taking it out for a test-drive?" Dean mumbled, leaning down to nip at Castiel's neck. "See how it handles the curves?" he added, the hand that had been splayed gently over Castiel's stomach suddenly dipping down and rubbing against his crotch, startling an affirmative moan from the man below him before letting his tongue make a quick, teasing swipe along Castiel's ear and then continue, licking a messy trail down the length of his neck.

Castiel could feel Dean's stubble scratch his skin and he shivered, carding finger's through the spiky hair, mouth open and panting silently as he watched Dean's mouth work it's way over his chest, trace the outline of his ribs and stomach, making him chuckle when the tongue wiggled against his skin, tickling him and then arched his back and moaned when Dean made a sharp turn, coming back up to mouth and lap at his left nipple.

"Yeah, I figured you'd like that." Dean mused, fingers moving away from the hard outline of Castiel's cock and dragging blunt nails along the inside of his thigh instead. "You've always been a sucker for the teasing… Remember those pretty noises you used to make for me? That sexy, little impatient whine you would get when it all became too much…?"

Castiel nodded, his body making an erratic twitch when Dean's hand started kneading the ridge of his hip, rocking him slowly.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about those sounds?" he asked against his chest, "How many times I've shot my load all over myself imagining you were right there with me, your body on top of mine… your tongue licking into my mouth…"

Oh the picture those words painted, heaven have mercy! Castiel could feel his abs draw together in pure ecstasy at the thought alone; Dean spread out and wanton with his hand around his dick, moaning out his release to the ceiling with come splattering all over his stomach and chest and his grip tightened in Dean's hair.

"Dean… if you don't shut up and get me naked within the next ten seconds I'm going to make you sleep in your car." He growled.

"Wow, aren't you eager for a virgin…" Dean smirked, teeth gracing his so far unattended nipple and Castiel choked out a moan.

"You gave me a replica of your own dick," he pointed out, neck craning back into the beddings, "doesn't that technically mean that you've fucked me already?"

Dean looked up from his ministrations, a somewhat shocked expression on his face and then he growled out a curse against Cas' ribcage.

"Shit, I almost forgot about that…" Then suddenly both of Dean's hands were under the small of his back, lifting him up as his mouth slid down to bite loosely on the skin just below his navel. "Did you use it?" he growled, predatory possession seeping into his voice, making Castiel's head sear. "Did you use it to fuck yourself right here on the bed?" he demanded and Castiel shook his head, another breathless moan escaping him.

"No… I did it on Gabriel's couch… ended up coming in one of his old sweaters…"

"You kinky bastard…" The thought alone seemed enough to drive Dean out of his mind. "What else did you do with it?"

"N-nothing… I only used it once, I-… I forgot it in my gym bag the last day we met."

"Where's the gym bag now?"

"I left it in the trunk of my car."

Dean stilled and Castiel wanted to scream out his frustration to the heavens because he needed Dean to stop fooling around and _touch_ him already!

"So you're saying…?" Dean swallowed hard. "For fuck sake's Cas, I held that bag in my hands…!" He breathed in slowly, hands trembling against Castiel's skin and then suddenly he rolled them both over, Castiel coming out on top with a startled gasp with Dean's mouth pressing against his bellybutton, sliding further down the second Castiel found his balance, bracing himself on all fours above him.

"You remember what I told you?" Dean hissed, "That first day in the showers?"

"What?" Castiel asked, but then the breath was stolen right out of his lungs when Dean's hands suddenly tore open the buttons of his fly and seconds later there was just _heat_, wet and slick inside Dean's mouth as lips wrapped around the head of his cock and he slumped down into his elbows with a panicked groan as Dean sucked him off, tongue moving over him in skilled swipes and wicked slides of saliva and yeah he remembered now, remembered it clear as day.

_I'd go down on you… Wrap my lips around you…_

"Tiger…!" he gasped, the name slipping out on pure reflex and Dean's breath hitched, one of his hands coming down to grip around the base of Castiel's dick as he pulled of.

"Yeah, you liked that name, didn't you?" he growled. "Bet you used to scream it out loud when you jerked yourself off at night…" The wet tip of a tongue swiped out to lavish at the swell of his balls and Castiel whimpered, his hands fisting the sheets below him as he struggled to keep himself up despite the violent tremble of his muscles.

"Or maybe you didn't scream…" Dean thought out loud. "…but I bet you used to whisper it into your pillow, struggling to keep your moans down not to wake your brother up when you slept on his couch… Poor Blue, always so loud… I can imagine how hard it must have been for you…"

The second hand left it's splayed out position on his thigh and then there was a swift, metallic whisper from behind and when Castiel bent his neck to look down the length of his body he could see Dean's hand and mouth move up and down his shaft, making him whimper again, but also how Dean's other hand snaked it's way inside his own boxers, pulling out his cock and fisting it in rough strokes that matched the pace of Castiel's own pleasure, making the want strike Cas like a fist to the gut.

"No," he moaned, grappling Dean's hair for attention, "Turn around… Let me…"

Dean looked almost surprised at the offer, but after stripping out of their remaining clothes and rearranging themselves on the bed Cas was soon kneeling over Dean's midsection in a sixty-nine with the length of the other's erection before his face, the musky smell of skin and arousal thick in his nostrils as he dipped his head forward and licked at the tip, Dean's hitched breath from between his legs sounding like a bell inside his head. It looked just like he remembered it, the color only deeper and the touch of skin softer and more velvety than the silicone surface of the toy he had been given all those weeks ago.

When he takes it into his mouth, Dean moans, the hands on the globe of his ass squeezing in appreciation and Cas hums, feeling the stretch of his jaw around the hard flesh as he moves in further, takes it deeper, feeling power surge through his body when Dean gasps hotly against the tip of his own dick.

Then Dean's mouth is on him once more and the world gets lost in the feeling of mouths and tongues, the vibrations of moans and gasps that echoes between the bedroom walls when the pleasure swallows them up, hands sliding over moist skin and harsh breaths playing over rough curls of hair and it was all there at the very tip of their fingers, solid and _real_ in a way none of them would ever have dared to think about.

There's suddenly a tentative pressure against Castiel's entrance, just the soft ghosting of a wet finger, asking his permission and he groaned, pushing back because yes, yes he wanted it, wanted it in ways he hadn't thought possible and Dean obliged, the digit returning to probe him gently, pushing past the first clench of resistance without hesitation, circling, giving Castiel plenty of time to accommodate the intrusion before pulling out and returning with a second finger, repeating the process once more.

Dean scissors him slowly, moving with what Castiel suspects is intentional patience, just to tease him, but Castiel doesn't have the discipline it would take to withstand such a treatment, not tonight and he rocked back impatiently, groaning around the length in his mouth to make his point heard, but Dean simply ignores his protests with a warning nibble of teeth.

When Dean's fingers brush against his prostate however, there is no more room for obedience and Castiel let's Dean's flushed cock fall out of his mouth with a loud yelp, grabbing hold of the other's knee for support when his entire body goes weak and limp in Dean's arms despite his attempts to stay upright.

He expects Dean to send him a sarcastic comment for his abrupt lack of posture, but to his surprise and slight panic, Dean simply circles a firm arm around his waist and pulls him even further down, deep throating him in one swift movement like nothing, Castiel's breath stuttering to a halt before he manages a wheezing moan that seemed to reverb against the walls.

"Oh that's good…! Oh god, that's- _fuck_!"

His encouraging panting turn into a sharp yell when the fingers inside him suddenly picks up speed, fucking into him fast and ruthlessly and he feels Dean's throat constrict around his dick in slow, controlled movements that shoots lightning up his spine in hot, white flashes, but when he tries to get back up onto his knees to keep the other from choking Dean's arm tightens around him, locking him in place and refusing to let him go.

His head is spinning and he claws desperately at Dean's legs, feeling the orgasm draw nearer like a tidal wave and he tries, really tries to speak, to make Dean know what's about to happen and let him go, but Dean just hums around his cock, adding more wicked sensation to the already brutal assault of his fingers and Cas gasps, fingers curling into the sheets because it's all too much!

"Dean… Dean wait I- fuck I haven't done anything for like a week, I won't last...! Oh god… oh god stop, you're making me- oh _god_!"

He feels Dean swallow around him, once, twice and his head falls against the mattress, his scream of release buried amongst white sheets as Dean milks his orgasm out with deep, relaxed motions of his throat, moaning shamelessly around him until Castiel can't take it anymore and makes a final, weak attempt to escape and this time Dean lets him up and allows him to roll over on his back next to him while wiping his mouth with a lewd grin that Castiel would have found right down rude if he hadn't been too busy trying to breathe.

His chest was heaving, his arms flung above his head and his entire body felt like gelatin and he had a fair suspicion that he could no longer feel his right foot, but at the moment he also couldn't care less.

Beside him Dean propped himself up on one elbow, looking at him with a smug grin.

"You still alive there?" he asked cockily, "Or did I accidentally kill you?"

"Death by fellatio… now that's something for the coroner's office…" Castiel panted, and he didn't even have to look to know that Dean was now touching himself, watching him, which in turn reminded him that the bastard had actually forced him into orgasm sooner than he would have wanted and he swatted out a hand, punching the other hard on the upper thigh.

"I hate you." He groaned, but Dean only chuckled, sitting up further.

"What? Don't tell me you didn't like that?"

"Yeah, you caught me, it was spectacularly unpleasant, please never do that to me again." Castiel snorted out sarcastically and Dean smirked, running his hand slowly up and down his own dick.

"You really haven't jacked off in a week?" he asked suddenly and Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Shut up."

"No seriously, that's pretty impressive." Dean objected with a laugh and Castiel sat up, leaning back on both his elbows.

"How often do you do it then?" he asked challengingly.

"Every chance I get." Dean grinned and then he slowly moved forward, crawling over Castiel's sprawled out legs, a predatory glint sparkling within green eyes.

"So you see; my stamina is in mint condition..." he drawled, nudging Castiel's knees even further apart with his own, "…and I'm about flip you over and pound you into mattress so hard there will be an imprint left for you to admire a month from now."

Castiel shivered, leaning his head back when Dean's mouth came up to kiss its way slowly up his chest and neck, hands pushing him backwards and down onto his back once more for a brief moment before they grabbed his shoulder, guiding him to roll over with gentle pressure. Dean's breath was hot against the back of his neck, lips peppering fluttering kisses all over his shoulder blades and up to his ear, hands encircling him from behind.

"You know, you're more beautiful than I ever imagined you'd be…" Dean whispered. "I mean, I hoped you would be hot, sexy even, but this… man, I never expected _this_-…" His hands gripped tighter around him, the hips behind Castiel making a lazy thrust forward and Castiel hummed, reaching back to grab a firm hold of his lover's thigh while bracing himself on one arm.

"Well you have me now," he purred, pressing himself against the other's body. "So what was that you were saying about my mattress? Still want to ruin it for me?"

In response there was a low growl against his ear and blunt nails raked down the front of his chest, past his hips to his thighs and then back up again.

"Oh, you bet I do…" Dean assured him and Castiel nodded.

"There's lube in the left drawer," Cas motioned to the bedside table and the mattress beneath him shifted when Dean made his way over there and he watched the muscles of the other's body play beneath the skin from the corner of his eye when Dean reached over and pulled the drawer out, grabbing the lube from within it. After a closer look into the box he also found a package of wet wipes and used a pair to clean of his fingers before placing the pack in the drawer once more.

"You want one of these too?" He asked, holding up a condom.

"Do I need one?" Cas asked and Dean shook his head.

"Not that I know off, but it's convenient, not to mention sanitary." He tossed the pack onto the bed and closed the drawer, returning to his original position behind Castiel's back.

"Trust me; if I carried something I would tell you." He said and Castiel heard the whisper of foil being torn open.

"I suspected no less." He confirmed, completely sincere, but when he heard the cap of lube pop open behind him his breath hitched because it suddenly dawned on him what was about to happen here, what they were about to do and he froze, his throat slowly pulling tight.

"Dean…" he rasped.

"I know, I know."

Dean's hand smoothed up the length of his back, slowly easing out the tension that had coiled there.

"I'll go slow." He promised and Castiel nodded, gasping silently when he felt the blunt tip of Dean's cock press against him, the lube and rubber cold against his skin and then the only thought in his head was to _breathe_ as he was breached, the girth of Dean's erection pushing into him and filling him up just as slowly as he had promised, but fuck it was so much, so overwhelming and it was nothing like the dildo, didn't even come close! The air rushed in and out of his lungs in short bursts, his head hanging down between his shoulders and his entire body was shaking, torn between wanting to escape this horrible tension and the desire to make it go faster all at the same time and god, he had not expected this!

The emotions were wrestling around inside his chest and forming a lump in his throat, the steady touch of Dean's hands on his hips the only thing anchoring him to reality as the seconds ticked by, every moment making it harder to stay in control and when he finally felt the jut of Dean's hips press in against him he slumped down onto his elbows, releasing a quiet sob into the pillows and behind him he heard Dean let out a long, slow breath, as if he had been holding it in this whole time.

"Hey…" he whispered, long fingers stroking up Castiel spine, making the other shiver. "Cas, you okay?"

Cas shook his head because no, he was not okay, not by a long shot.

"Move…" he whimpered, "Please, just _move…_!"

Any other man would probably have take that response as a sign that their partner was hurting, but Cas knew that Dean would understand and going by the way Dean's fingers dug into his hipbone in response Dean had interpreted his voice right.

After all, Tiger always liked it when he begged…

"For fuck sakes, don't say stuff like that…" Dean moaned, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Dean, I swear to god if you don't move right now I'm going-!"

Castiel's threatening growl was cut short when Dean suddenly pulled out and slammed back in, both their moans barely having time to mix together before he did it again and yes, yes, yes, just like that, that's what he wanted oh Jesus, oh god…!

"Fuck…!" he gasped, hands wringing the sheets, "Oh, please harder… faster, Dean… Dean!"

The fingers on his lower back shot up to curl into his hair, dragging his head up while the other set up a fast, punishing rhythm, pulling him back to meet each of Dean's thrusts and it was so good, so maddening good and Dean was _inside_ _him_ and it shouldn't feel as overwhelming as it did, but Dean, _Dean_…! He moaned, trying to hang his head back down and Dean let him, the hand letting go of the dark strands to grasp around his shoulder instead.

"Feel exactly like I thought you would…" he growled "So tight around my cock, Cas… so fucking tight…"

Cas moaned again, a violent tremor rushing through him because Dean had _imagined_ this, he had thought about the two of them together, just like this and the very idea was spreading fire through his limbs like a fever, his head reeling and causing his muscles to grow weak and give out beneath him.

Then Dean was suddenly gone, the feeling of loss immediate and cruel in the space where he had been, but it only lasted a second because then the hand on Cas' shoulder tightened and flipped him over in a single, powerful motion and then Cas was on his back with Dean's face hovering over his, green eyes pinning him down more efficiently than any hands in the world.

"Look at me, Cas…" he panted and Cas' chest pulled tight when he felt Dean's cock slowly beginning to slide into him again, Dean's eyes still not leaving his. "I've waited so long to see you like this… I want to see everything…"

Castiel nodded because yes, he understood, he understood and he wanted that too, he wanted to _see_ and Dean grabbed hold of his calf, lifting his leg up to rest upon his shoulder and Castiel followed, obediently placing his other leg on the opposite one, feeling Dean's hips slot up even closer to his body, the size of him filling Castiel to the very core.

The pace changed after that, the rough, impatient pounding being replaced by slow, lazy thrusts and panting breath's as they rolled against each other, the muscles in Dean's body coiling and relaxing with each wave of intoxicating pleasure and Cas found it so hard to keep his eyes open, but he wanted to _see_, wanted to relish in the way Dean's brow drew together in near concentration, the way his mouth fell open in silent gasps of breath and how those thick eyelashes occasionally fluttered against sharp cheekbones, but never fully closing, always watching right there with him.

Castiel fought the urge to toss his head back against the pillows, to burry the side of his face deep into the soft fabric, but Dean's eyes were holding him, keeping him locked in place. The sweat shone on their bodies, making their hands slip and slide over sharp angles and tensed muscles and it was so sweet, so hot and so downright _filthy_ the way they moved with one another. Castiel was so hard again he ached, ready to let Dean do whatever he wanted with him as long as it meant that he would get to come like this, staring into Dean's eyes just like this, watching Dean's face change as he emptied himself inside him and oh god, he needed them to _move_!

Dean's one arm was extended to brace himself against the mattress as the other ran soothing strokes up and down the front of Castiel's thigh, occasionally reaching down to massage and grope at his ass, the weight of his body and the power behind his hips causing Castiel's back to lift off the mattress.

"Fuck, you never told me you were this flexible," he moaned.

"You never asked," Castiel panted back and Dean chuckled, giving his ass a hard squeeze.

"Do you remember… all those times I told you I was going to do this…?" he asked, catching Castiel's eye again. "All the times I said I was going to fuck you just like this… slow and dirty, really make you beg for me, you remember that?"

"I remember…" Castiel nodded, eyelids fluttering, "I remember everything… Dean… Dean please, I'm so close…"

"Yeah you are, aren't you? Fuck, you know I love it when I make you come twice... and I'm gonna make you come so hard, Cas; gonna make you scream so loud, make your neighbors call the cops on us, would you like that?"

Cas knew for a fact that his neighbors wouldn't hear a thing about what was going on in his apartment because A; the walls were thick and made out of 90% concrete and B; they were out of town, which he knew since they had asked him to keep a look out on the place, but fuck, there was something about the possibility of anyone hearing them, realizing what they were doing that pulled his thoughts back to all those evenings in the public showers, to the risk of having someone walk in on them that flipped a switch inside his head and made him claw at Dean's chest and buck his hips up because shit, he needed this faster, he needed _more_! His hand reached down and found his cock in between their bodies, but he barely managed two full strokes before Dean's fingers locked around his wrist and pinned it over his head, grabbing hold and providing his other arm with the same treatment a split second later.

"You impatient little bastard," he whispered smugly, putting more of his weight on the legs flung over his shoulders, folding Castiel deeper down over himself as he continued to move in and out of him in slow, lazy thrusts.

"You know what I want to hear, Cas… I want to hear you say it." One particularly hard thrust made Cas eyes slide close and he arched his back, clawing at the pillow beneath his head and raking his nails over the headboard above, rolling his hips up in a desperate attempt to find some sort of friction for his leaking cock that was smearing precome all over his stomach. It was unbearable, horrible and so fucking wonderfully perfect he didn't know whether to smile or weep when Dean's cock started hitting his sweet spot over and over, as if the bastard had known what angle to use all along and simply avoided it on purpose.

"Say it…" Dean urged, "I can keep you on the edge like this for as long as I want. C'mon, Cas… c'mon, say it, fucking give it to me, you know you want to."

"Dean…"

"I haven't heard it in so long… My blue-eyed, virgin angel… Fuck…!"

Castiel had always been able to tell when Dean was getting close, mostly because he always lost complete control of his tongue, the words seemingly spilling over his lips as soon as they popped into his head, but together with the look on his face, seeing the way his eyes glazed over with the same desperation Cas could feel within himself made it all so much better, so _real_ and he moaned, trying to use the leverage of his knees to lift himself higher, pulling Dean closer because he needed to _feel_ him against him, inside him, making sure he was actually there and once again he marveled over how they had come to this, from two strangers tossing insults in a public shower to _this_ and he needed, he _needed_...

"Fuck me…" he panted, his fingers curling demandingly around the edge of Dean's hands as he locked eyes with the man above him, the sound of Dean's hitched breath making his heart stutter in his chest. "Dean, fuck me… I want it… want it so badly, please…" He tossed his head back, letting out a choked growl to the ceiling when Dean slammed into him, harder than before, making him see stars and then the words in his throat turned into pure nonsense because Dean didn't _stop_, he just kept on going, pounding into him like an animal and Jesus, sweet Jesus in heaven, oh Jesus fucking Christ…!

He looked down, and god help him he could actually _see_ where the length of Dean's cock pumped into him, pistoning in and out and shit he wouldn't need to touch himself for this, he wouldn't even need to _look_!

"Fuck, you're going to make me come…!" he gasped and Dean groaned, his arms bending to slump further down and press his forehead together with Cas' own as he let go of the smaller man's left arm, bringing his hand up to card his fingers through his hair instead, their eyes locking only a few inches apart and Castiel was _burning_, fire blazing from the inside out as the intensity of Dean's eyes had him shaking, the intimacy of it overwhelming and scaring the shit out of him at the same time, making him feel exposed and naked in a way that no lack of clothing could ever compare too.

His free hand scrambled for refuge on Dean's torso, searching for a place to hold on as the tidal wave drew closer, slid across the sweaty surface of a clavicle, down an arm to eventually claw and grasp at the hand already curled against his temple, watching the world disappear within the green depths of Dean's eyes as he his muscles locked up in near seizure, his mouth falling open in a silent scream that made his throat ache when the heat in his belly flared up, whiting out his mind like a nuclear bomb. He felt Dean's body tense, felt his hips jerk, heard Dean gasp out his name against his lips in a low wince that grew into a wounded cry when he spilled his release inside him in hard, pulsating thrusts that shook Castiel to the very core before slumping down on top of him in a panting, groaning heap of shuddering muscles, fingers flexing and sliding against the moist strands of his hair.

Castiel had no idea how long they stayed like that, limbs tangled and hands folding over one another, breathing in each other's air, but he was abruptly brought back to reality when the thumb of Dean's hand slid out to gently caress the side of his cheek and Cas was both surprised and startled when he reached up to feel an already drying trail of tears coming from the corner of his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, grateful that Dean had shown him the courtesy not to make a big deal out of it.

Dean in turn smiled at him, a crocked little twitch of his lips and then he straightened up to sit back onto his heels, Castiel feeling his back twinge in protest as the weight was slowly lifted off his body and he winced when Dean pulled out of him, a burning ache replacing the faltering glow of pleasure that still lingered in his system. Dean used more of the wet wipes from the drawer to clean himself off, wordlessly returning with a handful new ones to tend to the mess on Castiel's stomach and chest while Castiel slowly unfolded his body, stretching out and feeling the vertebras in his back pop back into place one by one in mute snaps until he was lying sprawled out on the bed with his eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of Dean's hands smoothing up and down his chest.

"I think I'm going to need some help to get up," he mumbled drowsily and Dean nodded, climbing out of the bed on still post-orgasm-wobbly bow-legs before coming around and reaching out a hand to help him sit up and stagger to his feet. Walking hurt, but not in a way that indicated injury, just a aching combination of sore muscles and tired limbs and he managed to get himself into the bathroom without assistance, even though Dean looked close to ashamed when he saw the grimace the first few steps caused to appear on Castiel's face.

When Cas came back from the bathroom, having cleaned himself off properly Dean was in the middle of putting the sheet back in place over the bed and when Cas bent down to help him tuck the corners in around the mattress he was rewarded with a sheepish smile followed by a flirtatious wink that made a goofy grin appear on his own lips.

Later, when the bed was once again made and the room was lit up only by the faint slither of light that managed to sneak its way through the blinds from the buildings below the two of them were more than willing to go to sleep and a quick glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table explained why when it confirmed to Cas that it was indeed now almost four o'clock in the morning. Dean followed his gaze as he climbed into the bed, throwing himself onto his back with a snicker and folded his arms behind his head

"Guess this turned into a pretty long date, huh?"

Castiel couldn't see the other's grin in the dark, but he sure could hear it and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, joining Dean under the covers with a snort.

"Try saying that again without sounding so smug about it." He suggested, but Dean just laughed and together they fell silent, lying on their backs beside each other on the bed.

They weren't touching, even though they were lying close enough to feel the covers move in time with the rising and falling of the other's chest, but it wasn't in any way awkward lying like that, more like a silent, yet mutual decision. It felt familiar; the thin strip of white sheet between them substituting for the thick ceramic wall that was no longer there to keep them separated, but that they both felt safe to have for the moment as they laid there, listening to each other breathing in the dark, allowing reality to sink in once more.

Castiel's mind was buzzing with the memories of the events that had filled the past hours and at first he tried to sort them up, putting them in order and analyzing them, figuring out how all the pieces of this enormous puzzle fitted together, but he soon gave up, deciding that he was fully content with the way things had turned out anyway without understanding exactly how and he sighed deeply, closing his eyes against the dark around him.

"By the way," he mumbled, "if you ever tell Gabriel about what happened to his sweater, I'll kill you."

Next to him he heard Dean give a low, disbelieved snort.

"You think I'd sell you out to your big brother?"

"I think my brother would be able to lure it out of you whether you intend it or not unless you're given an ultimatum."

"And what if he does that anyway?"

"Then the police will never find your body." Castiel assured him and Dean chuckled.

"My lips are hereby sealed." He promised and the mattress shifted as he burrowed deeper into the pillow, a sigh of undisputable contentment rushing past his lips.

"So, it seems as if I was right all along then." He declared proudly and Castiel scowled.

"Right about what?"

"We really _are_ awesome at this."

Castiel laughed, and on the other side of the bed Dean joined him, the two of them too tired to care that the sentence hadn't actually been meant as a joke, and perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the insane flutter the sound of Dean's laughter created in his stomach, or both that made him ask what he did next.

"Would you like to come live here?"

"What?" Dean chuckled, his laugh faltering slightly and Cas bit down on his tongue, cursing his lack of social timing as his thoughts scrambled to find the right words to explain his idea.

"Sam said-… or rather, Sam told Gabe and Gabe told me that you've been living at Bobby's since you got fired and I was just thinking… You know, this apartment really is too big for just one person anyway and I though that in case you wanted to… like, it doesn't have to be permanent, but if you'd like you could… I don't know, give it a try?"

"Live here?" Dean sounded completely dumbfounded, the question understandably having caught him off guard. "You mean as in… move my stuff in and everything?"

"If you want." Castiel nodded, fingers curling into a fist on top of his chest as he held his breath. Of course he _knew_ that it was a stupid question to ask and he _knew_ that even though they knew each other more than well already it still wasn't the same as knowing each other well enough to _live_ together, but the question was out there now and he couldn't take it back.

"Huh…" Dean said, falling silent and Castiel was thankful for the fact that Dean couldn't see him where he laid, heart banging a racing staccato against his ribs, a near sweat breaking out over his skin, but then the covers stretched as Dean turned over to lie on his side, facing him with his head propped up in one hand.

"Can I get a drawer for my clothes?" he asked and Castiel let out a shocked laugh.

"Dean, I'll give you the entire _closet_." He declared loudly.

"And a shelf in the bathroom?" Dean sounded as if he was _haggling_, but whatever technique he was using, Castiel sure as hell didn't understand how it worked because at the moment he could have asked about practically anything and he would get it even if Cas had to go out and buy it himself.

"Left cupboard, take it, it's yours." He deadpanned and Dean laughed, falling back against the pillows once more.

"It feels good to be home." He announced contently and Castiel resisted the urge to punch his fist into the air in a completely uncharacteristic, stereotypical display of accomplishment, settling with simply grinning widely from ear to ear instead.

"There's just one thing." Dean suddenly added and Castiel's heart froze, but then Dean leaned in and pressed his forehead against his, their noses touching. Castiel noted that Dean seemed to like doing that for some reason, and he welcomed it with all his heart. He knew that couples usually developed tiny quirks after a while; small gestures of affection that were referred to as 'things' reserved for those two people only. Perhaps this would become _their_ 'thing'? The though alone made his heart race with near painful excitement in his chest, but then he was pulled back to reality when Dean spoke again.

"For the first month," Dean said solemnly, "you are not under any circumstances allowed to take a shower without me, or I will make sure Gabriel will receive an anonymous letter regarding a certain, most likely, _missing_ article of his wardrobe."

Castiel could honestly never remember a time where he had been as happy to be blackmailed before in his life.

"Agreed." He smiled. "And I'm going to assume that I get to extract a similar vengeance upon you if you don't hold up your end of the agreement?"

"Of course." Dean promised and Castiel, simply because he had to let some of the ridiculously bubbly feeling inside his chest out before he burst open like a piñata pulled Dean into a kiss that lasted long enough to make them both gasp for air like drowning men when they finally came apart.

None of them said anything else after that and the bedroom sank into a soft, comfortable silence that made Cas think of warm blankets, hot tea and sleepy afternoons on the couch and his body had already begun to drift off into sleep when he felt Dean's hand reach up towards his on the pillow and hook two fingers around his index-and middle finger before the rest of his body slotted up behind him, a strong arm wrapping around Castiel's waist and pulling him in tight, sighing quietly.

The last thing that goes through Castiel mind before he falls asleep is the familiar image of a wall, the gridded pattern of white tiles filling up his field of vision in a never-ending stretch; a frustrating manifestation of malicious constraint, but as the feel of warm lips leans in to press a single, firm kiss against the back of his shoulder blades the wall cracks before his eyes and crumbles to the ground in a pile of rubble and broken shards of ceramics. He sighs, snuggling deeper against the firm body behind him and smiles when he feels Dean's two fingers tighten their grip around his in return just before the velvety dark of exhaustion takes him over and he sleeps, safe and content for hours with the quiet warmth of Dean's breath playing over his skin like the loving ghosting of fingers.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

**Don't worry, the story's not completely finished yet, there's still a few things that needs to be addressed before I can let my baby go ;)**

**So what did you think of this chapter? What was good? What was bad? **

**Is there anything regarding Dean and Cas' argument that you wish I would have focused more on, or perhaps even something I missed? It's hard to look at the story from a reader's point of view since I know what's going to happen and knows the answers to all the questions already. So if there's anything you think didn't get enough attention then please let me know as there is still time to correct that.**

**All critiques are welcome – if delivered maturely of course – and I look forward to hear your opinions =) **

**Tons of love to you my darlings, you truly are awesome!**


	14. Chapter 13

When Dean woke up he knew that it was bright outside before he even opened his eyes, but whatever objections his brain might have had at that were quickly swept under the rug when he felt the firm bulk of muscles that pressed back against his chest and he dragged in a slow breath through his nose, soaking in the scent of warm skin as he nuzzled in closer to the man before him. He could still catch a whiff of Blue's shampoo; that familiar hint of spices and something that reminded him about cinnamon filling up his nostrils and causing his stomach to do a giddy little flip as he buried his face amongst the tiny hairs at the back of Castiel's neck.

His right arm was still firmly circled around the other male's torso and he tightened his grip slightly, his lip twitching up when he heard Castiel sigh and snuggle back even harder in response. Now some people, like his brother, were under the impression that Dean was what you would have called an anti-cuddler, but the truth was that Dean had nothing against cuddling; in fact he found it to be a rather pleasant activity. He did however have certain reservations about letting others, like his _brother_, know that he liked it. Given Dean's otherwise so rough exterior it was needless to say the teasing would never end…

Still, no matter how much he would have liked to stay there with his arm tight and snug around the remarkably sexy man in his arms he could feel his neck and back begin to ache the more awake he became and after a few minutes his left shoulder was damn near killing him! Slowly, to make sure he wouldn't wake Cas up, he began uncurling his body from the other man's and after a little wiggling and worming he managed to successfully free himself without causing too much of a fuss, even though Castiel gave a low, displeased groan when Dean moved away from him to lie down onto his back with a relieved sigh instead.

The headboard of Castiel's bed towered above him and Dean soon found himself tracing the lines of handcrafted wood with his eyes in quiet marvel over the details put into the work. The headboard itself was quite simple, at first glance looking like a mere, square piece of wood that had been attached to the mattress, but on closer inspection this degrading description turned out to be completely false. The headboard was square, absolutely, but half an inch in, all the way along the edge there were these small, barely there little carvings forming a complicated pattern of branches that weaved together with the material so perfectly they almost looked like they had grown straight out of the wood. There was _thought_ in there, even though it appeared to have been created by mere coincidence, but once you looked closer it was evidently clear the plan had been there from start to finish, disguised in chaos. He reached up, gingerly sliding his fingertips along the wood and as he suspected the texture was completely smooth against the pad of his fingers, not a chip or splinter anywhere within his reach. It was perfect.

Cas really made this all by himself?

He glanced at the man by his side, followed the firm muscle of the other's back and arms down to where they disappeared beneath the covers and the thought suddenly didn't feel as foreign anymore. He had felt the strength behind those hands and he had no doubt in his mind that Cas was able not only to put the bed together, but also to dragging the whole thing up the thirteen flights of stairs from the ground and into the apartment all by himself.

He glanced up at the headboard again and made a quick re-evaluation; Castiel might be willing to do the job, yes, but capable? Not a chance in the seven planes of hell; the bed was solid oak and probably weighed a ton! How the hell _had_ he moved it up here; teleportation?

He threw a suspicious look at Castiel, scowling. Full of mystery he was that guy… Definitely more than meets the eye, that's for sure and Dean should know, considering…

Fuck, just to think that all along… wait, how long was it really? A week since they saw each other in the flesh for the first time maybe? Or was it even less? It felt as if they had been dancing around each other for months, years even, and knowing that Cas had been aware who he was all that time…

He expected the thought to make him angry, but it didn't. Instead he felt a light twinge of sorrow thinking about all the time they could have spent together instead of wasting time on some stupid act to keep up appearance. It was a strange feeling because normally he would never be able to let such a thing go – if there was one thing he couldn't tolerate it was when people lied to him – but with Cas… Damn, last night he had looked so scared, so absolutely terrified and at the same time so… calm, as if he had already accepted that Dean would never want to see him again and that look had _hurt_, had literally cut into Dean's very soul and now, in the aftermath of everything Dean wasn't really sure why he had reacted so harshly as he had. Shock most probably, he decided, and hey why wouldn't he have been shocked; it's not every day that your date turns out to be your long lost… whatever it was they had been.

He realized that Castiel must have found himself in such an incredibly awkward situation back there, especially since Dean knew how the other man struggled with human interactions. As Blue had said himself once during their meetings; his "people skills" were "rusty" and Dean could understand why Cas had been so scared of coming clean; crossing the line between casual sex and dating was tricky enough as it was and their situation was more than just a little bit too unique to handle the old fashioned way.

Besides, it wasn't as if Dean had been some kind of brave knight in shining armor either; sneaking around, trying to stealth his way through their entire date when he could just as well have asked the man straight up and gotten it all over with. Like he told Cas last night; they were both equally to blame for this mess and he really had no right to stay mad and pissed at Cas simply out of principle, and when he thought about it did it really matter even if he were to be angry still? Was it worth risking to screw this up again or should he just check it all off as a huge misunderstanding and actually give a life with Cas a shot?

The last alternative was without a doubt far more tempting than the first…

He was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden whirr coming from somewhere below the foot of the bed, and the vibration was immediately followed by the crude notes of the electric guitar that just happened to be his ringtone and Dean scrambled forward, quickly locating and grabbing hold of the left leg of his jeans and pulled them in so that he could fiddle the phone out of the pocket and flip it open before the noise managed to wake Cas up.

"What?" he hissed into the receiver, being met with a surprised snort and a laugh in return.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Sam. Of course it was Sam.

"Hi, Sammy…" he groaned, rubbing a weary hand across his face.

"Man, you sound tired." Sam remarked. "Don't tell me you're still in bed?"

Dean threw a quick glance at the sleeping Castiel over his shoulder.

"Actually I am." He admitted quietly. "Listen, I can't talk right now, I'm sort of in the middle of something here."

There was a short, stunned silence from the other end of the line.

"On the first date, Dean?" Sam snorted. "Seriously?"

"Technically it isn't a first date." Dean objected. "We… Cas and I sort of know each other from before." He admitted, thinking that Sam was bound to find out sooner or later anyway so why the heck not screw around with his pain in the ass little brother when he got the chance?

"What?" Sam frowned, much to Dean's expectations. "You told me you met the guy for the first time a few days ago."

"Well, I lied."

Remarkable, Sam's bitch-face could be heard even through the phone.

"Dean, what's going on?" his younger brother demanded testily.

"Nothing's going on. Not like that anyway." Dean objected. "By the way do you know if my stuff is still boxed up in Bobby's garage?" he added.

"Not unless you've moved them yourself," Sam grumbled. "But why-?"

"I'm moving in with Cas."

For a moment there he thought his brother had actually dropped the phone, but when Sam's voice eventually sounded through the speaker it was low and steady and unsettlingly calm.

"Come again?" he asked politely and Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"I'm moving with him, Sammy."

"Am I hearing this right or is there something wrong with your phone? You're _what_? Why?"

"I don't have time to explain it okay, I already told you I _really_ can't talk right now. If you want the full scoop you can ask Gabe."

"Gabe?" Sam repeated, sounding as if he had never heard of the man before.

"Yes, _Gabe_; you know, the sugar-addict you're sleeping with?" Dean shot back, not caring about how the snappy tone caused Sam to do a verbal eye roll in response.

"Alright, jeez, I'll ask him, take it easy…"

"Great. I'll talk to you later."

"Fine, but I still want to know how-…"

Dean hung up the phone with an annoyed snort, and as a second thought he also turned the device off just in case his brother would be struck by the brilliant idea of calling him back.

He reached for his jeans, intending to put the phone back in his pocket, but then he seemed to change his mind and carefully placed it on the bedside table instead. It looked good, he decided, as if it belonged there and he let out a pleased little huff before he rolled around, coming face to face with Castiel's wide-open, bright blue eyes.

"Jesus Christ!"

Luckily for him Castiel's bed was wide enough to prevent him from actually falling out of the damn thing and down onto the floor, but he did bang his elbow into the sturdy bedside table instead, wincing out a silent curse between gritted teeth as he rubbed the injured limb with his other hand, realizing that he had just efficiently erased every shot he had at acting cool about waking up in another man's bed. On the other side Castiel looked at him with his brow raised in surprise, as if asking if this morning routine of Dean's to demolish the interior before he got out of bed were to be expected in the future and when Dean looked up to meet the other man's eye he saw the corner of Cas' lip pull up in a near invisible smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and holy mother-… just when Dean thought that voice could not get any hotter, the bastard had to go and add some sleepy morning gravel into the mix!

"Fuck, Cas don't sneak up on me like that…" he breathed, his heart still working on the nearest escape route out of his chest. "You scared the crap out of me!"

Castiel snorted, wordlessly conveying that he thought Dean was clearly overreacting and Dean was about to open his mouth and give a sarcastic response to that when the other man casually leaned in and grabbed hold of his arm with tender fingers, giving his elbow an apologetic kiss before moving up to place another, slower one on his lips, efficiently vaporizing all thoughts of sarcasm right out of his mind. However, just as he was about to deepen the kiss further, Cas pulled away with a low hum, leaving Dean's blood seething in his veins and where the hell had the bastard learned how to kiss like that anyway?

"So, how did your brother take the news?" Castiel asked, and c'mon the guy didn't even sound breathless, how was that fair?!

"Like he takes all news; with a thousand questions." Dean answered, still intensely focused on the pad of the thumb still swiping over the soft skin on the inside of his elbow. "I sent him to Gabe. I'm sure he'll be able to freak my brother out enough to make him want to forget he ever asked. Hope you don't mind?"

Castiel chuckled, shaking his head.

"Don't worry. Gabriel wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut for much longer anyway."

"My thoughts exactly." Dean grinned and then he leaned in to crowd the smaller man against the headboard of the bed, growling playfully into the crook of Castiel's neck as he rolled them over to lie on top of him.

"I take it this means you're really moving in then?" Castiel asked, a pleased glimmer flickering behind his eyes and Dean nodded.

"I was thinking we could maybe pick up my stuff today if that's okay with you? It's all boxed up and ready to go and there's no furniture. My last place was one of those interior included kind of rentals."

"Oh thank god," Castiel breathed out, visibly relieved, "I was afraid we would end up hauling couches and bookshelves up the stairs all day."

"Sorry." Dean shrugged, "Seems like we'll have to come up with something else to pass the time."

"I'm sure we'll think of something." Castiel mused and then, as if he had been able to do it the whole time he hooked his leg around Dean's knee and twisted, using that hidden strength of his to roll them around and come out on top, straddling Dean across the thighs with an evil smirk for just a few seconds before he to Dean's huge disappointment climbed off, leaving him flat on his back and alone in the big bed.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Dean objected, throwing his hands out to the sides in protest.

"I was thinking breakfast, seeing as it's been almost sixteen hours since we ate." Castiel suggested soberly and as if on cue Dean's stomach gave a loud rumble that could be heard all the way to the Netherlands.

"See?" Cas said, raising a brow at him. "I don't know what you usually have for breakfast, but I have some eggs and bacon and there might be a slice of pie left in the-…"

"Pie?" Dean sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"I had a feeling you'd be interested in that," Castiel smirked, pulling open the left sliding door of the closet that covered the entire wall opposite from the bed. "It's blueberry, but if I recall correctly flavor never really was your biggest concern?"

"Hey, if it starts with a 'p' and ends with an 'ie' I'll eat it." Dean grinned, climbing out of the bed to track down his own clothes, starting with his boxer shorts.

"Figured as much." Castiel smiled and then he proceeded to retrieve a new pair of underwear from a nearby drawer, pushing the sliding door even further away and revealing a row of suits and shirts hanging neatly on the other side.

"Now that's one hell of a closet." Dean remarked. "You must own a shitload of clothes."

"Not really," Castiel snorted, pulling a plain, grey t-shirt over his head. "I only use this side; the other one's still empty."

"So that's the side I'm going to use?"

"If you don't mind?" Castiel shot back with a leer and Dean laughed.

"Oh I don't, believe me." He watched as Castiel dragged a pair of old, worn jeans out of the bottom half of the closet and pulled them on, his leg partially showing through the hole on the left knee. For some reason that little hint of skin made Dean's fingers flex sharply against the fabric of his own trousers and he forced himself to look up, swallowing when he saw the muscles of Castiel's back flex as he straightened up to zip up his jeans.

"It's a shame." He declared solemnly, making Cas glance at him with a brow raised.

"What is?"

"That you have to hide that sexy body of yours beneath that boring suit all day."

"It's part of my job," Castiel snorted. "And I'm not sexy." He added firmly.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked, pulling his jeans up to his waist, "Had you been wearing what you're wearing now that day at Singer's Salvage I would have thrown you across the hood of your car whether I thought you were Blue or not."

He expected there to be some sort of sly remark or comment to that one, but when none came he looked up from the task of buttoning his fly and found Castiel looking down at the floor, a furious red blush covering the back of his neck.

"What?" Dean asked, suddenly worried. "What did I say?"

"Nothing, I was just… About Singer's Salvage…" Cas begun, turning around slowly to face him. "Dean I-… I'm sorry for not telling you who I was right away. It was stupid and I-"

"You don't have to apologize, Cas." Dean interrupted, straightening up and walking closer. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Cas bit down on his lower lip.

"Dean…"

"Hey, I said it doesn't matter." Dean scolded softly, stepping up to place his finger against Cas' mouth when the other opened it to speak once more. "We both acted like idiots and I'm sorry that I didn't push harder to find out who you were before last night. But everything's good now and I don't want to hear you apologize for something that you didn't do, is that clear?"

Cas swatted Dean's finger away with a light glare, but shortly after he reached out and grabbed Dean behind the neck and pulled him in for a hard kiss, as if trying to tell him that even though he did _not_ approve of it, he was still willing to let the subject drop for his sake.

"Man, you're stronger than you look." Dean gasped when the other man finally released him. "In that trench coat I could have sworn you'd be close to scrawny."

"It is old." Cas admitted. "I bought it when I first started working at the office and I couldn't afford tailored clothes back then. I've been thinking about buying a better one."

"Oh no, you're not." Dean ordered, making Cas scowl before continuing. "That trench coat is the sexiest, weirdest turn-on I've ever had in my life; you're keeping it." He grinned, giving Cas a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back and picking the rest of his clothes up from the floor.

"Hey, you think I can borrow a sweater or something? Mine seems to be missing a few buttons." He dangled his shirt from the tip of his index finger, revealing that there was in fact, no buttons attached to the garment at all.

"Oh…" Cas blinked sheepishly, recalling _how_ exactly those buttons had gone missing. "Sorry about that..."

"Don't worry; you can rip my clothes apart any time you want. Perhaps not in public though." Dean added thoughtfully and Cas snorted.

"I'll try to contain myself." he promised and then he tossed a t-shirt from the closet at Dean who caught it just in time to avoid getting hit square in the face with it.

"Just take it easy, you might pull something," he chided back, but Castiel just smiled and walked ahead of him out of the bedroom.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

The pie, as it turned out, was probably the most delicious piece of pastry Dean had ever tasted in his life. Every bite was like a miniature orgasm inside his mouth, the flavors exploding on his tongue in bursts of absolute bliss and he groaned, leaning back against Castiel's kitchen counter with his face tipped to the ceiling.

"This…" he said, pointing to the plate in his hand with the tip of his fork, "… should be illegal."

"Don't you think we've been stretching the law enough already?" Castiel answered from the other side of the kitchen and Dean snorted.

"Not enough for this." Dean objected. "Man, I'd sell my soul for a life supply of these." He mumbled, scooping up another piece of the pie in front of him. "We're did you buy it anyway?"

"That depends," Castiel sighed, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Most of it's from the local supermarket, but the blueberries come from this girl at work who gets them from her grandmother out of town."

Dean stilled, staring at the other man with the tip of the fork still an inch away from his mouth.

"Wait, so you mean…?" He pointed at the plate and then at Castiel who nodded quietly.

"Damn…" Dean breathed and he could see Castiel's eyes gleam proudly over the edge of his coffee cup in response. "You never told me you could cook?" he asked almost accusingly.

"You never asked." Castiel answered calmly and Dean had to brace himself not to walk over and molest the other man right there against the stove.

"Well then, prepare for kitchen duty Cinderella, because you're doing this again." Dean grinned and Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling, his lip pulling up in a smile as he turned around to rummage through a cupboard behind him and Dean watched him reach up to grab something from the top shelf, the t-shirt tightening over his shoulders as he did so.

God, he was beautiful; all lean muscles and taut skin… and those eyes of his… The guy sure hadn't been kidding when he said he had special eyes; Dean had never seen such a shade of blue in his life. It was almost eerie the way they seemed to lock onto him, seeking his own eyes out like magnets pulling him in and the thought that this was what had been hiding behind that stupid shower wall all this time made Dean's heart raze inside his chest.

He had imagined it before of course, what his mystery lover looked like, but the fantasies in his head could never have prepared him for what reality had in store for him. The sight of Cas' body was absolutely breathtaking and Dean's fingers were itching to explore the smooth planes and sharp angles of it further as soon as he got a chance, but that was not the biggest reason to what made him feel like he had just taken a gulp out of the most sickening sweet love potion in existence; it was the other, million, ridiculously _tiny_ things that did the trick... Like the way Cas' head slowly tilted to the side when he looked at him, or the way his eyes squinted in confusion whenever Dean said something he didn't understand. In the way his fingers closed around the coffee cup, in the way that little crook at the corner of his mouth appeared when he thought Dean was funny, but didn't want to show it… To finally be able to see it all; to learn which expressions and postures went with which tone of voice was just mind-blowing and Dean was certain he would be able to stand there all day, just watching Cas do absolutely nothing at all because damn, he never thought he'd get to have this… not this close…

"So when do you want us to go get your things?" Castiel asked, still with his back turned against him and Dean was ripped out of his musings with a confused intake of breath.

"Oh… yeah I was thinking… I mean, you don't have to come along unless you want to." He mumbled quietly, but Castiel waved him off.

"Of course I'm coming with you." He snorted. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, or someone might steal you on your way back. Besides," he added, closing the cupboard firmly "two cars are better than one."

Well, two cars were undoubtedly better, he couldn't argue there. He watched Castiel smear some butter on top of the two slices of rye bread he had retrieved from the cabinet and he gnawed his bottom lip, glancing down at the pie in his hands.

"Hey, you want some of this?" He offered the plate to the other man, but Castiel shook his head.

"No thank you. I'm not very fond of sweets in the morning."

"Dude, it's almost midday." Dean objected, thrusting the plate into Castiel's hands. "Here, you shouldn't have to eat some dry piece of bread when there's stuff like this available."

"Really, I'm not a breakfast-person." Cas tried, but when Dean just gave him a firm glower in response Castiel looked down at the pie and sighed.

"I take it I don't have much of a choice, do I?" he asked resigned.

"Not really." Dean confirmed and he grabbed the fork from the plate and dug off a generous chunk of the pie and held it up to Castiel's mouth. "Open up," he coaxed. Castiel glanced down at the food before him, almost looking as if he was about to frown at it, but then his eyes slowly slid up to meet with Dean's own, hips lips parting and the tip of his tongue slowly moving to curl around the edge of the fork as he leaned forward and took the pastry into his mouth, lips closing around the prongs and pulling back with just enough of a suckle to make Dean tighten his grip around the shaft in his hand, a lewd glint sparking somewhere behind those blue orbs when Dean drew a slow, shaky breath at the display given to him.

"Satisfied?" Castiel asked, wiping a few crumbs off his lip with his thumb and innocently sucking the digit into his mouth.

"Not even close…" Dean breathed before moving in to plant a hard kiss over the other's lips, moaning at the flavors of coffee, pie and Castiel that seemed to mix together at the tip of his tongue and god, he wished every morning could taste like this…

Castiel mumbled something incoherent into the kiss, pushing gently at his shoulder and Dean pulled back with a reluctant huff.

"What?" he grumbled impatiently.

"I said; we should probably brush our teeth." Castiel answered, laughing when Dean deflated a little and he reached up to give him a small peck at the corner of his mouth. "As much as I enjoy kissing you, I'd rather do it with a clean mouth."

"I don't have a toothbrush..." Dean muttered, suddenly embarrassingly aware not to breathe out too much through his mouth when he spoke, but Castiel just smiled.

"You can borrow mine." He promised and then he pushed Dean to the side, handing him the plate with the pie back before he winked and gave his ass a slow, but affectionate squeeze. "Now finish your breakfast and then we'll go get your things before you develop any nasty second thoughts."

"Oh, don't you worry." Dean assured him. "That's not very likely."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

When they got to Singer's Salvage Cas realized that they would probably have done just fine with only one car after all, seeing as Dean's possessions didn't stretch further than a few boxes consisting mostly of clothes, books and a large stack of vinyl records. Since Castiel didn't have a garage they decided to leave all of Dean's tools in Bobby's workshop and after only an hour's time they had efficiently gathered all of Dean's belongings and packed them into the cars, all under the watchful eyes of Bobby himself.

The old man hadn't said much to Castiel during their visit, something that made Cas more than a little nervous, but Dean assured him that Bobby was a man of few words as it was and that he shouldn't worry about it.

"If Bobby doesn't like you then he'll let you know." He assured him. "He's never been one for sugarcoating."

It wasn't much of a comfort to be honest, but Cas figured that as long as he behaved himself and stayed out of the way he wouldn't end up on anyone's bad side so he let the subject drop.

It didn't take long for him to understand from where Dean had gotten his fondness of sarcasm as he watched the two men toss insults and witty comments at each other while Dean rummaged through the house in search of his things. They weren't rude, but almost every word was laced with just a little bit of an edge, just enough to keep the other person on their toes, and beneath each snappy response there was also a fondness that Cas suspected was the two men's way of saying that they cared without actually having to say it and it wasn't exactly hard to figure out that the word 'idjit' held a completely different meaning here than what he himself was used to.

Castiel could not remember what having a father was like. His own had been distant and non-present most of the time and when the old man had eventually left never to return the family had been stuck with Michael which needless to say hadn't exactly been an improvement... but he couldn't help but think that had he been given the chance, he would have liked a relationship like the one Dean seemed to share with Bobby Singer. They were so relaxed around each other, their mouth's flying off every other second just speaking their minds without having to guard their words and it reminded him about him and Gabriel, which of course made sense somehow seeing as Gabriel was the only real family Cas had ever known.

Now, Bobby hadn't seemed to mind the fact that his adoptive son was moving in with another man, but as of now, when Cas and Bobby were standing outside while Dean disappeared back into the house to get the last box from upstairs it was with a spiking chill to his gut that he realized that perhaps the older man didn't actually _know_ anything about Dean's sexual orientation. He might think that Cas had offered Dean to move in with him like a friend and he tensed up, shooting the other a look from the corner of his eyes, suddenly feeling more anxious and out of place than he had in months.

Then on the other hand Bobby might be fully aware of the situation but wasn't interested in talking about it or, god please no, what if he was one of those people who'd rather live in denial than recognize their children's alternative lifestyle and Castiel's stomach drew tight, a future of being referred to only as "Dean's roommate" or "Dean's friend" flashing before his eyes along with uncomfortably silent family dinners which he was barely allowed to attend.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the gravel beneath his shoes stirring obnoxiously loud and he could feel Bobby's gaze land on him like a ton of bricks as his mind struggled to come up with something to say to break the suddenly awkward silence between them, his mouth opening and drawing for breath before he had even decided on a topic, but he didn't get far before Bobby interrupted him with a gruff.

"So, Castiel was it?"

Cas immediately shut his mouth and nodded.

"Castiel Novak, sir." He mumbled and oh dear lord, he felt like a teenager on prom night, sitting in the living room at another family's house while facing a highly uncomfortably questioning by the date's father; the mandatory assurance of having Dean back before midnight being the only thing missing…

"You think you've got what it takes to handle him, son?" Bobby asked, nodding towards the house and Castiel followed his gaze to the door where Dean should reemerge any second now.

"I believe so," he confirmed, trying to sound assertive and Bobby nodded wisely.

"If he gets cranky just give him something that makes a lot of noise when it breaks and he'll be fine. Then again…" he added, tipping his cap in Castiel's direction, "…I assume you've already worked out a few tricks of your own, going by those bruises I saw on his neck."

Castiel almost choked on his own tongue, his eyes quickly relocating themselves to the ground by his feet.

"I was not-… " he stuttered, cutting himself off to clear the nervous squeak from his throat. "I didn't know whether Dean told you…." He rasped and Bobby snorted.

"He doesn't have to _tell_ me anything. This is the first time I've seen him smile for over a month and with the way he keeps looking at you… well, let's just say his poker face could use some work."

Castiel nodded, swallowing hard.

"I see." He looked up quickly, trying to decide whether Bobby was telling him this as a threat or a statement, but the old man's face was unreadable. "Mr. Singer, sir, I-…"

"Son, if you 'sir' me one more time, so help me I will lay you across my knee as the grown man you are."

Castiel's mouth shut with a mute snap, almost snipping at the tip of his tongue in the process and Bobby rolled his eyes to the sky.

"Just call me Bobby. I save the 'Mr. Singer' for the people I don't like."

"Oh." Castiel blinked dumbly, his mind drawing a temporary blank before the sound of heavy boots headed their way pulled his attention back to the house, his shoulders relaxing with relief when he spotted Dean coming down the hallway inside.

"Hey," Bobby huffed and Castiel looked up. "Don't let him boss you around." He said solemnly. "Dean needs someone to keep his head out of the clouds from time to time, so don't be afraid to take charge if he becomes too much of a handful."

Castiel glanced at Dean and then back at Bobby, taking a moment to process the information before nodding once, slowly.

"I'll make sure to remember that." he confirmed, the silent 'thank you' clearly audible within the words and then he straightened up when Dean came walking out of the house carrying the last box of things and putting it down next to the car.

"Remember what?" Dean asked, wiping off his hands on the back of his jeans and looking at them expectantly.

"Nothing," Bobby answered nonchalantly, "Just debating whether your new boyfriend here has a pet octopus at home or if he's just very enthusiastic."

Dean scowled, obviously not getting what an octopus could possibly have to do with anything, but when Castiel turned his face away with a poorly contained snort of a laugh his ears immediately turned a furious shade of red and he grumbled something Castiel didn't catch in Bobby's direction as he quickly bent down to pick up the box again and toss it into the trunk of his car, thusly missing out on the playful wink Bobby sent Castiel's way behind his back and also the grateful smile Castiel gave the old man in return.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Now this one brings back memories…"

Dean looked up from the box he was rummaging through on the couch just in time to see Castiel pull out one of his old vinyl records from a box on the floor, turning it around so that Dean could read the label on the front.

"Metallica?" he asked incredulously, looking from the album featuring the same name to the man sitting cross-legged on the floor. "How come?"

Castiel smiled, reading through the songs on the back of the pitch black cover.

"Gabriel used to play this all the time when we were younger. I bought it for his twentieth birthday along with a record player – it cost me a minor fortune back then but it was worth it just to see the look on his face." He chuckled, carefully putting the record down next to him on the floor.

"I've always thought Black Album was their best." He added thoughtfully and for the hundredth time that day it struck Dean how Castiel was so much more than what he at first appeared to be. This guy had layers beyond layers within his person that continued to pop up and surprise Dean when he least expected it and it was strange how that only seemed to increase the adoration he felt for the man. Like now; the mere thought that Castiel listened to Metallica felt so out of place and still so completely right at the same time it just blew his mind.

"That's funny," he chuckled, "I wouldn't have pegged you for a Metallica fan?"

"I wouldn't call myself a fan." Castiel objected modestly, "I enjoy most kinds of music, so I don't have what you would refer to as a favorite artist or band. Though I admit, electric guitars are very enjoyable."

"You never mentioned that before." Dean pointed out and Castiel's lip quirked into a smirk when he looked up at him from beneath dark lashes.

"I suppose I was too busy getting off at the moment." He drawled and Dean nodded, chuckling.

"Yeah, that was probably it."

Castiel went back to methodically page through the stack of records inside the box on the floor and Dean looked at him, a curious thought slowly taking form inside his head.

"Speaking off…" he said, putting the box on his lap down and settling back into his seat. "I never did get to hear the full story on what you did with the… _inspiration _I gave you."

Castiel glanced up at him, picking up another set of records from the box and placing them next to the Metallica album.

"No…" he agreed quietly, "No I suppose you didn't."

"Care to share?" Dean grinned and the other's left eyebrow rose into a surprised arch.

"Now?"

"Yeah, why not?" Dean settled further down into the cushions with a lewd smirk. "Better late than never, don't you think?"

"I don't know…" Castiel's eyes flickered back to the records in front of him and that shy look right there must have been one of the most adorable things Dean had seen in his life, and not surprisingly the sight also caused a hot pulse of heat to shoot right down his pants and suddenly he really, really wanted to hear what Castiel had gotten up to with that toy of his.

"C'mon, Cas." He whined, "You basically spilled the whole thing last night, what's so bad about doing it again?"

"There's nothing bad about it." Castiel objected, "It's just…"

"Just what?" Dean prompted, but instead of answering Castiel suddenly stood up from the floor, sending him a secretive little look over his shoulder.

"Wait here." He said and then he disappeared down the hallway and into the bedroom, returning after just a few seconds with a familiar piece of silk held out between his hands. The sight of that blue tie along with the devilish glint in Castiel's eyes made a red light go off in the back of Dean's head, but he ignored it in favor of the excited pulse that sparked through his body, licking his lips when Castiel slowly climbed up to straddle his lap, the world disappearing when the dark haired male wordlessly folded the fabric over Dean's eyes and tied a knot at the back of his head.

"What are you doing?" Dean chuckled, bringing his hands up to grab around Castiel's wrists, but Castiel shook him off with a low huff, continuing his work with the tie.

"I can't have you looking at me when I tell you." He explained, making Dean's brow furrow.

"Why not?" he snorted.

"Because you were never meant to _see_ me tell the story in the first place. Those were the rules."

"You don't think you're taking this a bit too seriously?" Dean asked, slowly rubbing his hand over the front of Cas' shirt, thumbing the hard edge of a nipple through the cotton fabric.

"Absolutely not." Castiel decided firmly, grabbing Dean's hand and removing it from his torso at the same time as he grabbed hold of Dean's other wrist and maneuvered both limbs up until they were both firmly spread out on top of the dark leather couch.

"Now stay still." He instructed. "Don't move."

"Is this some sort of payback?" Dean asked, "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Not payback…" Cas chided, slowly ghosting his fingertips up and down the length of his arms. "Consider it a housewarming gift."

"Really? Man, I need to switch apartments more often."

Cas actually chuckled at that and then Dean felt the firm press of lips against his own when the other bent down to give him a kiss, most probably to make him shut up and shortly after that Dean really didn't have any interest in talking anymore when Castiel slowly began to nip and lick his way down his throat and neck in long, hot swipes. He could feel those full lips search out and lock onto one of his already there hickeys and suckle hard, the slow, throbbing pulse of pleasure-pain pushing something in between a growl and a wince out of his throat.

Castiel's hands trailed from his shoulders, down his chest until they found the hem of his t-shirt and dipped underneath it, pushing the fabric up to bunch just beneath Dean's armpits before they slid down to mimic the movement Dean had done over Castiel's own chest a mere minute ago, the thumbs sliding over both nipples in lazy spirals and Dean arched into the touch, gasping quietly at the sensation.

The fingers brushed across the hardening nubs in slow, rolling circles and every swipe sent another electric jolt of pleasure to pool low in Dean's gut and when Castiel leaned down to add a swipe of his tongue to the equation Dean moaned, his head lolling back against the cushion with a low thud and Castiel chuckled against his chest, the hot breath making Dean shiver.

"Now who's the one who's been holding back on information?" Cas asked slyly, continuing to roll the left nipple in between his thumb and index finger to drag another gasp out of Dean's lungs.

"Did I stumble across a sweet spot here? You sound like you're enjoying yourself."

Dean groaned when Castiel continued to lick and suckle at his chest, his fingers fisting the back of the couch while breathing harshly through his mouth and yelping when there was an unexpected nip of teeth against the hardened peaks. He knew he had sensitive nipples, perhaps even abnormally sensitive for a guy, but damn, having Castiel's mouth and tongue toy with him like this was just about as much as he could take and still will himself to stay in place, Cas balancing him on a knife's edge of bliss and torture with a skill that had the breath catching in his throat.

Slowly, making sure to take his time, Cas kissed his way down his stomach, stopping only to dip is tongue into Dean's bellybutton before proceeding to slide his mouth over his abs, all the while pushing himself back and eventually completely off of Dean's lap to kneel on the floor between his knees and Dean moaned and thrust his hips lazily upwards when those wicked hands left his chest in favor of undoing the buttons of his fly. A sharp tug later Dean felt the elastics of his boxers stretch and he sighed when the length of his cock finally was sprung free from the confinements of the jeans that were now hanging loose and open on his hips, still more on than off.

He waited, expecting to feel the touch of hands or a mouth on him at any second but nothing happened. He shifted hesitantly, straining to hear what Castiel was doing, but he was met only with silence. What was that little devil up to?

"Cas?" he asked, but the dark around him remained quiet, not a sound being heard except the rush of his own breathing. Did Cas leave him like this? Where the hell did he go?

The seconds ticked by and the longer he waited the more impatient he became. He knew that he should probably wait, but his cock was begging for attention below his waistline and he allowed one of his hands to slowly fall off the back of the couch and creep across the distance to touch himself, but before he reached his goal his hand was grabbed forcefully by the wrist and pinned back to the couch with a low snarl that sent the hair on the back of his neck standing.

"Did I say you could move yet?" Castiel growled and Dean let out a low whine to the ceiling, tugging at his captured hand.

"Fuck, Cas… you're blue balling me here…" he groaned, but once again he was met with silence when Castiel's hand released its grip around him.

"C'mon, man, not again." he wailed, but then there were sounds of movement coming from right in front of him and he shuddered when fingertips moved out to touch the side of his ribs.

"I'm still here." Cas informed him quietly, the hand ghosting down the front of his body, down his hips to rake blunt nails over his still clothed thighs.

"Fucking tease…" Dean groaned, hearing Cas chuckle on the other side of the darkness before his eyes.

"You said it yourself…" he purred, "I've always been a sucker for the teasing."

Dean's body tensed when he heard the unmistakable whisper of a zipper coming undone, soon followed by the rustle of clothing and then he felt the couch shift when Castiel sat down somewhere next to him, still, he realized with growing impatience, without touching him.

"I started like this." Castiel whispered, and suddenly his voice seemed to have dropped an entire fucking register, the sound of it provoking shivers all over Dean's body. "All splayed out on Gabriel's couch much like you are now, touching myself. Can you imagine that?"

Dean swallowed, nodding obediently because yeah, he most certainly could.

"I had been thinking about the gift you brought me the entire day…" Cas revealed, "Just waiting for Gabriel to get out of the apartment to give me some time alone…" He moaned at the memory. "And when he finally left I was practically shaking… my pulse racing inside my head…"

Dean heard something move, feeling the cushions shift when the other adjusted himself on the couch and he flexed his fingers against the hard leather, his knuckles crackling with tension.

"I took it out of the box." Cas continued and now Dean could hear the way his voice trembled, a tiny shiver at the end of the sentence that made his dick twitch against his stomach, "I took it out and looked at it… touched it and imagined how you would like to be touched… how you would taste…" Another groan seemed to echo through the room and God, the images inside Dean's head right now.

"I thought about what it would feel like to have you inside me… to feel you move with me, on top of me… spreading me open so good…"

At that Dean tipped his head back, moaning silently, remembering exactly how that had felt the night before; the tightness and the warmth of Cas surrounding him and his fingers clenched harder into the cushions at his sides.

"I went slow at first," Cas whispered breathlessly, "I pushed it inside me… feeling it… f-fill me up…"

Behind the blindfold Dean's eyes suddenly snapped open, his head jerking up from the backrest and turning towards the sound of Castiel's trembling voice because fuck, he recognized that sound…!

"Cas, what are you doing?" he asked sharply, but in response he only got another loud moan and Dean's breath stuttered to an abrupt halt inside his chest.

"Cas, are you-…? Jesus Christ, are you _fingering_ yourself?" He straightened up, his hand already halfway to rip the tie away from his eyes when the growl of Castiel's voice made him freeze dead on the spot.

"You take that blindfold off, Dean and I swear to god…" he threatened.

"Jesus Christ…" Dean repeated, slumping back into his seat with a groan, gritting his teeth when he heard Castiel's breath speed up again and now when he knew what that meant it was even worse than before and Cas, the little fucker, was seemingly not holding back the slightest anymore, the low timbre of his voice causing Dean's entire body to shiver uncontrollably.

His dick was hard and rigid against his stomach and he wanted to reach down and touch himself so badly it hurt, but the tone of Castiel's words echoed inside his head, holding him down like invisible bindings around his wrists. Damnit he had always had a weak spot for that voice, that predatory growl that made his toes curl and his head to sear, but at the moment he almost regretted having told Cas that because the other was obviously and without a doubt trying to kill him here!

"I fucked myself on your dick, Dean…" Castiel groaned, "I took it up my ass, thinking of all the things I wanted you to do to me… Don't you want to hear what I wanted you to do to me?" The question rose into a throaty whine and Dean felt goose bumps prickle the skin all over his body in icy needles of pure lust.

"Oh god, yes…!" he gasped.

"I wanted you to fuck me," Cas revealed breathlessly, "I wanted you to make me scream and claw at your chest. I bet you would have liked that, wouldn't you…?"

"God damnit, Cas-…"

"But I realized…" Cas interrupted him, "I realized that there was something I wanted even more…"

Dean heard Castiel move next to him, the leather creaking when the other slowly slid off the couch, for a moment completely disappearing from Dean's radar before returning with the soft touch of hands to his knees, making him suck in a deep breath through his nose.

"You want to know what it was?" Cas murmured, nuzzling his mouth against the inside of Dean's clothed thigh and Dean immediately spread his legs wider, urging the other man to move in closer and when he felt hot breath rush over the tip of his cock he bit down on his lip, barely holding back a whimpered 'yes'.

The hand on his left knee moved higher, fingers scratching their way up to his thigh and the air from Castiel's mouth was like fire on his skin when the man let out a breathy chuckle.

"You sure?" he teased and Dean responded by bucking his hips impatiently, causing the hands on his legs to tighten in silent retribution.

"Behave, Dean." Castiel threatened. "You are not in a position to make demands at the moment."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean snapped and Castiel chuckled again, and it just wasn't fair how evil that sounded, even more so how something so sinister could make him even harder than he already was!

"It means that I have a sculpted, vibrating replica of _this_…" Cas moved his hand up to splay over the jut of Dean's pelvis, pushing down lightly, but still without touching his dick, "… fully at my disposal. I can take care of my self. Question is; are you and your hand willing to do the same?"

"You little fucker…!" Dean hissed, but he cut himself off with a sharp gasp when teeth suddenly closed around his right nipple, the wet heat of Cas' tongue lapping at the bud inside his mouth until Dean couldn't help but squirm in his seat, struggling to keep the needy whimpers from escaping his throat.

"What?" Cas purred, releasing the nipple with a wet pop, "I didn't get that…"

Dean bit down on his lower lip, shaking his head in silence and he could feel the pleased curve of Castiel's mouth move against his chest, down his trembling abdomen.

"That's what I though…" he mused and then Dean literally choked on his own breath when Castiel's mouth suddenly sank down over his dick, the slick heat of saliva wrapping around him and the tight circle of lips moving slowly up and down his shaft.

Dean was not ashamed to admit that he had spent many mornings, afternoons and nights imagining how that mouth would feel on him, what the sensation of that tongue slickening up his skin would be like, but never, not even in his wettest dreams had he imagined anything like this.

Yes, Cas had sucked him off last night and yes, it had been amazing, but back then Dean's attention had been split by the task of getting the other man off at the same time and he suspected that Cas had not really been able to pay attention to what he was doing to Dean himself, but _now_…

Dean had been right all along; of course he had been and truth was that Cas turned out to be a god damn _pro_ at sucking dick! Not like a pornstar, with the excessive amount of saliva and those unsettling choking sounds, no, this was nothing like that. Castiel's mouth was like a piece of pure Heaven, his tongue moving in wicked swipes over just the right spots at just the right pace and oh yes, how Dean loved being right!

"Oh fuck, that's good…" he groaned, "Yeah, just like that… god…!"

He had expected there to be some kind of warning first, but the next second Castiel simply dipped his head down, going further and further until Dean could feel those sinful lips mouth at the rough hair at the base of his dick as the tip of Dean's cock pressed against the back of his throat. The walls of the other's throat relaxed and tightened around him, again and again and Cas didn't even make a sound, seemingly fully capable of deep throating him like this for as long as he wanted and Dean couldn't breathe, he couldn't _breathe_ and it felt so good and Cas... Cas…!

The orgasm came rushing towards him faster than he would have thought possible and he gulped for breath, the white noise rising inside his head, but then it all disappeared when Castiel's mouth left him, his dick desperately twitching for that last thread of stimulation that would have pushed him over the edge and Dean was absolutely positive that he was going to faint when the rush of his climax bubbled down under the surface once more, leaving him strung out and panting on the edge of his seat.

"Fuck…!" He winced, throwing his head back, "Damnit Cas, why'd you st-…?!"

His complaint ended in a garbled noise when Castiel moved again, his tongue circling around the head of Dean's erection in teasing slow strokes, stopping momentarily to toy with the thin frenulum beneath it before he pulled off completely with a wet slurp that made Dean arch right off the couch.

"I thought about this," the other man panted quietly, his voice sounding rough and completely fucked out in a way that set Dean's entire body ablaze, "About what you would like me to do to you once you had me on my knees. I used to imagine the sounds you'd make… what you'd ask of me and I found the thought to be… _extremely_ arousing."

He underlined the statement by licking a long, lazy stroke from the base of Dean's cock to the very top, dipping the tip of his tongue shallowly into the slit there and making Dean hiss silently.

"And that's what I realized that time on Gabriel's couch," he continued, "with the length of you moving inside me… I realized that I didn't just want you to tell me what to do."

The weight on Dean's thighs increased when Castiel used them as leverage to push himself up, straddling Dean across the waistline once more and nipping at his neck and Dean was willing to toss the rules of Castiel's little game right out the window at any second now because he wanted to _touch_ god damnit, but the sudden, hot breath against his ear made him stay put.

"I wanted you to _beg me_, Tiger…" Cas growled and Dean could feel his entire body flush furiously in response to his other name; his secret, _sinful_ name, his dick twitching heavily and making him groan when he felt it brush against the unmistakable length of Castiel's own erection.

"I wanted to hear what you would sound like when I was on top of you, holding you down and fucking myself on your cock. So I rode the dildo you gave me, and I rode it _hard_… and then I came in my brother's old sweater, splattered my load all over the god damn thing while screaming out your name… It felt so good, Tiger, so fucking good…"

"For God's sakes, Cas, stop stalling and get on with it already…!"

"You're not paying attention." Cas scolded, and Dean felt the other's right hand slowly trail down and wrap around his cock with lose fingers, far too lose to provide with any friction while the other came up to tilt his jaw back with a firm grip, Castiel's tongue moving in to lick into the hollow of Dean's mouth in a way that was just _filthy_.

"C'mon... " he breathed, "Tell me how much you want to fuck me… Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"Cas…" Dean growled, "Get the fuck on me. _Now_!"

"Ask me nicely." Castiel countered with a whisper and it was a good thing Castiel's couch was as sturdy as it was because Dean felt like his fingers were about to rip right through the fucking leather at any second.

"Please…" he winced, his pride burning a hole through his throat as he swallowed it down, "I need you to ride me. I needed to be inside you like ten minutes ago, so please, get on me and ride me, Cas, please."

"Don't overdo it, Dean… it makes you look needy." Cas whispered, but Dean could tell from the thick tone of his voice that Castiel _liked_ him needy and if the hand tightening around his cock was of any indication, then Dean had done that part just right. However, when Cas shifted on top of him and Dean felt the tip of his erection push against and breach the other's, holy mother of porn, _lubed_ entrance he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep this submissive display up for much longer.

Castiel moved slow, so torturously _slow_ and Dean wanted nothing more than to grab him by the arms and pound into him until he could _hear_ those blue eyes roll back in his skull, but at the same time another part of him was ordering that he get a hold of himself and simply endure it; to savor each and every sensation, to _let_ himself get manhandled like this because right now those little hints of steel in Castiel's voice and hands were the hottest fucking things he had ever been subjected to in his life and he wanted it to last just as badly as he wanted it to end, the contradiction of it all tearing at him from the inside out.

"You feel so much better in real life," Castiel panted silently and for a moment Dean wasn't sure if he was talking to Dean or to himself, but then he heard him groan, two, strong hands coming up to brace firmly against his shoulders. "Fuck, Dean…!"

Dean held his breath for so long he felt as if his lungs were going to explode, but once he felt himself bottom out inside the man above him Castiel's fingers knotted in the hair at the back of his head, pulling him back to expose the spotted surface of his bruised neck and throat, wrenching a broken moan from his lips.

"So beautiful…" Cas whispered, nuzzling his nose against his jawline. "You want me to move?" he purred and Dean nodded eagerly, not even capable of answering properly and he could have fucking cried with relief when he felt the other slowly begin to bob up and down, the fingers in his hair tightening when Castiel's head came down to rest against his shoulder, the heat of Castiel's shuddered breath rushing over the left side of his chest..

"Shit…" Dean gasped, leaning in to press his forehead against Castiel's clavicle and it was with a pang that nearly made his head black out that he realized that Castiel wasn't wearing his shirt anymore either and the thought that Cas was now completely naked on top of him while he still had all of his clothes on was nearly too much for him to take.

"I gave you the wrong nickname, you bastard," Dean groaned. "I should have called you the blue eyed demon instead…"

"This is not so bad." Castiel murmured against his skin, a small tremble coursing through his body and making his voice shiver. "I could do so much worse... I could sit here, on top of you and jerk myself off, not moving an inch until I came all over your t-shirt."

"What makes you think I'd let you get away with that?" Dean hissed back, his arms tensing when Castiel moved in to lick along the shell of his ear, desperately trying to hold back a shudder.

"If you wanted to stop me you would have done so already," Cas whispered throatily. "But you haven't because you _like_ this… don't you? Having me bossing you around… and you won't move; not because I told you so, but because you _don't want to_." Castiel's teeth bit down loosely at his earlobe. "Does it sound familiar?" He taunted and it wasn't until that point that Dean realized how seriously screwed he was. He had been the one who suggested that Blue should work on his dirty talking skills, and oh, had Blue worked. He had taken lessons from the biggest sadist around; Dean himself. This wasn't Cas' game, it was _Tiger's_ and just the notion that he had efficiently managed to trap himself in his own tangled web of perversions made him want to scream.

"Just admit it," Cas cooed, "you're as much of a sucker for the teasing as I am… you just never told me." He nipped his way along Dean's jaw. "That was very naughty of you by the way… I'm going to have to find a way to pay you back for that…"

"You're going to fucking kill me, man…" Dean groaned, allowing Castiel to grab hold of his chin and tilt his head up to feel the breath of the other's mouth ghost against his lips.

"Always such a drama queen." He murmured and Dean didn't get time to object before Cas was kissing him again, his tongue lapping over the seam of his lips and sneaking its way inside with a low moan that took Dean's breath away, pressing in so close Dean could feel the other man's heartbeat against his chest. Castiel's skin was scorching hot against his, the heat seeping through the fabric of his clothing and making him sweat. Everything was so hot, so tight and so, so good but it wasn't _enough_, it wasn't what he _needed_!

The kisses from Cas' lips were like sweet, sweet poison and Dean drank them all down with a desperation that he normally would have been ashamed of, his mind clouded over and lost in euphoric hysteria. The lube and the wet slide of saliva on his cock enabled Castiel to move close to effortlessly, up and down, rolling his hips and grinding against him with a possessive need that Dean did not need his eyes to see, the pace slowly building in time with the ragged sound of Castiel's breathing. The whiny moans against his lips were getting increasingly strung out and Dean could feel his abs tighten as he arched off the couch, fighting for more friction and he was getting so close it was maddening. Cas was riding him fast now, fast and rough, his fingers digging into Dean's shoulders and Dean could both feel and hear the weight of Cas' dick slap against his stomach and fuck this was so hot and oh yes…!

"Oh yeah… oh yeah, keep going… keep going, just-… no… no, don't you stop…! Cas, don't you dare, don't you-…! Son of a _bitch…_!"

He threw his head back, a groan of frustration ripping out of him when Castiel slowed down, almost coming to a complete halt over him and the orgasm that had been just within his reach faded away for a second time and dissolved into the same, grinding ache as before.

"God, I hate you so fucking much…!"

"I like it slow…" Cas moaned, ignoring Dean's apparent disapproval, "I like to feel everything… every inch of you moving inside me…"

"Goddamn cocktease…" Dean muttered under his breath and Castiel grabbed hold of his chin, forcing his head up.

"Watch your mouth," he threatened, "or I'll go even slower."

"If you went any slower we would be fucking backwards…!" Dean growled, "Just move already, damnit!"

Castiel chuckled and to Dean's relief the thighs on either side of his body tensed when Cas pushed himself up and started riding him again, the hand on Dean's chest sliding up over his skin and dragging possessively through his hair. Dean could hear the air catch in the other man's throat when he pushed his hips up slowly, meeting with the movements of Cas' body and the strung out sound of Castiel's breath made his skin draw tight, his entire body fighting the urge to simply pound into the heat of the man above him.

"Shit, Cas… you have to go faster… please, move faster…"

"A little more…" Cas whispered, "I just need a little more…"

"I'm not gonna last a little more, you need to _move_…!"

"Fuck… Oh fuck..." Cas hands tightened in his hair, his hips stuttering and then Cas' tongue was in his mouth once more, lips moving rough and demanding, growling into his mouth and Castiel's hand shot up to rip Dean's hand away from the couch and bring it down onto his cock, the wet beads at the tip smearing out over the palm of Dean's hand.

"Touch me…" he hissed, the words muffled against their lips, "Oh god, Dean touch me…!"

Dean did not need to be told that twice and his other hand immediately grabbed hold of the other man's hip so hard he heard Cas wince. His hips pistoned up and Castiel's hands landed on either side of his shoulders with a startled cry, bracing himself for the ruthless pace Dean set up for them and his one hand latched on to Dean's left bicep in a bruising grip while the other scrambled up his neck.

"Let me see your eyes," he moaned, "I want to see…!"

The next second the blindfold was ripped away from Dean's eyes, the sudden light sending prickling needles to his vision that he quickly blinked away and when he looked up at Castiel's face his mouth fell open in a breathless moan, because seriously, the guy looked completely and gorgeously _fucked out_.

He drank in the sight of Castiel's eyes, his parted lips, the close to helpless, blissful furl of his eyebrows and Cas met his gaze, eyelids fluttering with each cruel thrust from Dean and just like that the power between them shifted and Dean's lip pulled up in a low snarl.

"You gonna come for me, Cas?" he growled, "You close?"

Cas nodded, trying desperately to keep up and meet with Dean's thrusts and buck into the grip of his hand at the same time, but not succeeding and Dean knew exactly how close he was because he was riding the crest of the wave himself and Jesus, Castiel's hand was like a fucking vice around his arm, the fingers pushing into his flesh seemingly burning right through his skin.

"Dean…" Castiel's eyes flickered across his face, lingering a split second on the bottom of his lip before coming back up, wide and startled and the hand still holding the blue tie shot up to clutch over the right side of Dean's face.

"Dean… Oh god, Dean…!"

Dean groaned when Castiel's come shot out over his chest in long streaks, the feeling of sticky, wet semen dribbling down his torso and hand sending the heat wave crashing into him, rolling through his body and locking him up as his dick pulsed out its release into the man above him, coating and slickening the way for his cock which barely needed to move, orgasm clouding his vision and turning his surrounding into a fuzzy haze with only the bright blue of Castiel's eyes to keep him anchored to reality.

He couldn't remember closing his eyes, but still, when the euphoria faded and he came back down he found himself eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having Cas leaning against his shoulder and peppering his neck and shoulder with slow, tender kisses and he sighed, body sinking into the cushions behind him, lax and spent and buzzing with satisfaction. He could have dozed off to sleep right there on the spot had it not been for the mess he knew would soon be seeping down the inside of his thigh the moment his erection wore off and he leaned into the hand still caressing his cheek, nuzzling Castiel's palm with his nose to get his attention.

"You got any plan for how we're going to get cleaned up without ruining your couch?" he mumbled and Cas pulled away from his neck and straightened up, looking over his shoulder and when Dean followed his gaze he spotted a bottle of lube and pack of wet wipes lying on the coffee table; a used one already folded neatly next to the box, most likely from when Cas had cleaned off his fingers after fingering himself earlier. Only problem was the distance, the table itself standing several feet away from the couch. He looked at Cas who calmly glanced back at him from the corner of his eye.

"You think you can reach that from here?" he asked and Cas winked slyly.

"I _am_ very flexible." He mused and then he slowly leaned backwards, the muscles of his stomach tightening when he reached across the space between the couch and the table, catching the rectangular box with the tip of his fingers and pulling it close before straightening up again, using the tight grip of his thighs around Dean's waist as leverage.

"Man, we have _got_ to look up some of that Kama Sutra crap for you to try…" Dean breathed and even though Cas didn't answer that Dean still caught the mischievous glint in his eye when he yanked a couple of napkins out of the box and shoved them into Dean's hand.

Cleaning up went easier than expected and Dean was relieved to see that Cas was able to walk close to normal as he waddled away and disappeared into the bathroom down the hall. He stretched, frowning when he felt his left arm ache at the movement and when he looked down he saw the unmistakable shadow of what would soon be a giant, hand-shaped bruise wrap around his upper arm and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Man, Cas really had a strong grip for a guy who spent his days behind a desk.

He got dressed rather quickly and as he pulled his jeans on the hard jut of plastic inside his pocket reminded him that he still hadn't turned his phone back on since this morning. He quickly pressed the power button of the device in and entered the PIN code before tossing it aside on the coffee table, but he barely had the time to move away before the phone went off, chiming and whirring like crazy against the glass surface.

When he flipped the phone open and looked at the display it informed him that he had four missed calls, all courtesy of his brother along with six new text messages, the last one from a number he didn't recognize.

He read the messages from Sam first and he snorted out a laugh as he paged through the so far one-sided conversation.

/\

_14.37_

_Smooth move turning your phone off, Jerk. Really mature. I talked to Bobby. He said you came by to pick up your stuff earlier. Guess you really weren't kidding about moving? Call me._

_16.03_

_OK I asked Gabe about you and Cas and now he won't stop laughing! What the hell is going on?_

_16.29_

_OMG SRSLY DEAN I DID SO NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT! _

_16.32_

_Four months and you didn't recognize him? You're an idiot. _

_16.51_

_I'm going to need a life supply of brain-bleach after this. Gabe and I are happy for you, but Gabe says Cas can never borrow his shower again. I'm bound to agree with him on that._

\/

Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling. His brother always was such a prude… Instead he brought up the text from the unknown number on the display, not having to read past the first two words to understand who it was from.

/\

_16.07_

_Gongrats Deano! I was rooting for you guys to hit it off! (and of course by 'hitting off' I mean 'getting off') Remind my brother that he now officially owes me one and I expect there to be bagels, Twinkies AND a chocolate fountain when the day comes! He'll know what I mean ;) Don't forget the condoms!_

\/

Dean chuckled silently. Trust Gabe to not dress his words.

"What's so funny?"

He turned around, seeing Cas walk back into the living room, still stark naked and seemingly completely unembarrassed about his obvious state of undress and Dean held the phone out with Sam's messages on display for him to take with an appreciative glance up and down his body and Cas snatched the phone out of his outstretched hand with a sigh.

"Don't you think we are a bit passed the point of getting embarrassed by nudity, Dean?"

"You tell me; I never was the shy one." Dean smirked and he was pleased to see that in spite of his careless attitude there was a faint hint of pink creeping up the back of Cas' neck when the other man turned his face away from him and began reading.

"Gabe seems to have been thorough." He commented, handing the phone back and Dean switched to Gabe's message, showing him the text and Cas' brow knotted together for a moment before he snorted out a condescending laugh.

"He wishes." He muttered, turning around to pick up his clothes that were lying scattered across the floor.

"Yeah, what was that about?" Dean asked, looking at the text again. "With the bagels and the chocolate fountain?"

"Just an argument we had a long time ago…" Cas pulled on his jeans, buttoning them with a calculated smile in Dean's direction. "Maybe one day I'll tell you about it." He offered and Dean grinned, tossing his phone aside and pulled his boyfriend in with a tug at the other man's belt loops. His boyfriend… wow if someone had told him that a week ago…

"I'll look forward to that." He mumbled and then he leaned in to press a soft kiss against Cas' lips, sliding both his hands around to caress the small of the shorter man's back and drawing him closer, deepening the kiss for a second without breaking the tender pace before pulling away slowly, smiling when he felt Cas attempt to follow with the movement.

"Now…" he drawled, smirking cockily when Cas shot him a dirty look for breaking the kiss, "what do you say about making me another one of those pies?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_**Well, Dean seemed to like Castiel's innovative way of story-telling. How about you?**_

_**And before you ask; no, it's not over. Not yet. Calm down.**_

_**Remember what I said; loose threads. **_

_**Anyway, I hope you all are doing awesomely and as usual if you find any grammar or spelling errors in here please let me know! (I suspect that there are probably more of them this time, I've been feeling a bit off with my sentence structure lately…)**_

_**Thousands of hugs to all of you. Don't ever change.**_


	15. Chapter 14

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_**A few weeks later… ;)**_

/\/\/\/\/\/\

When Castiel got home from work he found Dean sitting at the kitchen table, plucking with something looking suspiciously much like a rusty part from an engine. Thankfully his boyfriend had been so considerate as to cover the kitchen table with a spread of old news paper today in contraire to the last time Cas came home to find him like this and going by the smudgy paper towels lying next to Dean's arm the other had been very keen not to leave any smudgy fingerprints all over the furniture.

Ever since Dean got that new job at the car service he had picked up a nasty habit of bringing home the most peculiar pieces of equipment and vehicle parts after another, and had it taken Cas about two weeks of constant nagging to make Dean understand that simply because grease stains _could_ be cleaned off the interior of the apartment that didn't automatically mean that Cas _enjoyed_ doing it.

Now it seemed as if though the point had gotten through however and when Castiel entered the kitchen he was greeted by a wide smile and a dazzling look from bright green eyes.

"Hi babe, man you've gotta come check this out!" Dean beamed, gesturing to the metal rod in his hands with the enthusiasm of a five year old who had just found something exceptionally slimy to poke with a stick and who now wanted to share the experience.

"I'd rather not," Cas declined politely, but Dean was already lost to the surrounding world again. Cas didn't care for motors and engines, mostly because they seemed to come with the inevitable company of oil and dirt and Dean knew this, even though he always offered the other to look at the various toys he dragged home, possibly in the hopes that Cas would some day change his mind.

Upon hearing Castiel's normal answer to the invitation he hade dived down and focused on trying to cram the rod into a metal cylinder lying next to it, wiggling and scraping the two pieces together with a deep frown of concentration, the pink tip off a tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth as he worked, seemingly already forgotten that Castiel was back.

Castiel himself of course didn't find that offending in any way and thankful to have escaped the threat of getting a hands-on lesson in mechanics he walked up to the sink, pouring himself a glass of cold water instead before turning back to eye his boyfriend's struggle.

"You're home early today," he commented, sipping slowly from the glass in his hand. "I thought that car you were talking about would require you to stay late?"

"Yeah, but it turned out to be an easy fix. " Dean shrugged, leaning down over the table, almost going cross-eyed with intensity as he studied the details of the objects he was holding. "I was done by lunch and after that I figured I might as well take the rest of the day off."

"Slacker," Cas teased and then he tossed the newspaper he had been carrying underneath his arm onto the table next to Dean's elbow. "Take a look at that." He motioned to the paper and Dean picked it up, eyebrows tenting when he spotted the front cover.

"Wow…" he commented, turning the paper around and pointing to the full-blown picture of a very hostile-looking Zachariah, half hidden behind a police escort below the headline declaring that '_President of Edenstar embezzles millions!_' and underneath the words were another, smaller headline printed reading '_Board member discovers fraud!' _with the portrait of a man identified as Matthew Anderson.

Dean looked at the page, a wolfy grin slowly curling across his lips.

"We should frame this." he exclaimed proudly and Cas snickered, turning his back towards him to rummage through a cupboard in the hunt of something to snack on.

"Can't figure out were to hang it though." He pointed out, face buried amongst the shelves, "We don't have rooms ugly enough for something like that."

"True," Dean nodded, looking at the front page again, frowning. "He looks balder in person." he commented dryly, eyeing the sour looking man on the cover one last time before tossing the paper aside. "Yippee-ka-yay motherfucker…"

"I don't understand that reference." Castiel shot over his shoulder.

"Seriously?" Dean asked incredulously, snatching a paper towel from the pile on the table to wipe off the grease from his hands. "Dude, it's from 'Die Hard'."

"Sounds like a bad porno to me." Cas commented with a skeptic glance.

"No, it's not a por- damnit, it's an action movie!" Dean's eyes turned pleading as he began counting on his fingers. "Bruce Willis? Alan Rickman?" he tried desperately, but Cas just shrugged apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but it doesn't ring a bell."

Dean looked as if he was about to choke and die right there on the spot and then he threw his hands up into the air, paper towels and all before pointing a demanding finger in Castiel's direction.

"Alright, that settles it," he announced. "We're having a Die Hard marathon this weekend and that's that."

"If you say so." Cas agreed willingly.

"I have the first two movies here and I can borrow the third from Sam," Dean thought out loud. "But I might have to ask around for the fourth one… If we're lucky Adam might have it…"

"How is Adam by the way?" Cas asked, giving up his fruitless hunt in the cabinet and turning back towards him, "Is that new idea about custom paintjobs bringing any money in? I know he seemed pretty excited about it when Gabe was there the other week."

"Oh, it's going great." Dean nodded eagerly, "Someone actually ordered a full frontal job today, and _no_," he added with a stern look at Castiel's twitching lip, "…it's not nearly as perverted as it sounds. Biblical motive with angels, demons, holy fire and everything; the guy told Adam to just go crazy with it so he's all wound up about that. God knows he needs some artistic freedom after that hood-job he had to do last week." He muttered.

"What job?" Cas scowled and Dean waved his hand around dismissively.

"Nah, some stuck up British chick who wanted an entire Ouija-board done all over the hood of her car. Apparently the letters and stuff had to be placed in a perfect circle and that's a bitch to do on a curved surface. Luckily Alfie was there to calm him down or Adam would have taken a hammer to the thing before he got it right."

Castiel chuckled. He was glad that Dean liked it at his new job, and to hear that things were going well was a relief beyond words. He had to say he had been a bit surprised though when he had stopped by to invite Dean out for lunch during his first week and found himself standing face to face with Alfie at the front desk. A startled and confused greeting later it was settled that the interview Alfie had been so worried about jinxing had been for this particular job at Milligan's Car Service and he had started working there just a few days prior to Dean himself. Who would have known that scrawny looking kid would have a thing for cars?

"They get along well then?" he asked, "Alfie and Adam?"

"Like peas in a pod." Dean confirmed smugly. "Actually, give those two a few days alone and we might have to hire a fourth guy just to make sure they actually get some work done." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Cas snorted.

"You think they'd be interested in each other like that?" he smiled.

"Oh, Alfie's interested alright," Dean ensured him, "and Adam's not far behind, he just a bit slow on the uptake."

Castiel chuckled and put his now empty glass down into the sink, but then he frowned, turning to look back at the kitchen counter once more with suspicious eyes before he shifted his gaze to the floor.

"Did you… clean in here?" he asked in disbelief and Dean's face cracked into a pleased grin as he leaned back into his seat.

"Vacuumed the floor and everything." He admitted proudly. "And when you go into the bedroom you can comment on how neatly I've made the bed."

Castiel turned from the sink to give him an amused smile and a hitched eyebrow.

"What?" Dean asked defensively. "I can't clean the apartment all of a sudden? It's called 'nesting', Cas, look it up."

Cas suppressed a chuckle and shrugged out of his suit jacket, stepping forward to fold it gently over the back of a chair standing by the other end of the table, far away from Dean's oily motor parts. Dean watched him from the corner of his eye and the moment the other man turned away from him to reach his arms up over his head in a catlike stretch Dean was on his feet, slotting up behind the smaller man and sneaking his hands into the pockets of the black suit pants, pulling Castiel flush against his chest. Castiel exhaled slowly, his hands coming down to fold on top of Dean's through the dark fabric as he craned his neck back to rest upon the taller man's shoulder as Dean leaned down to mouth at the nape of his neck.

"Which reminds me…" Dean murmured lazily, "Do you know what day today is?"

"Thursday?" Castiel tried absentmindedly, far too interested in the way Dean's hands were kneading his hips through his trousers to pay any close attention and Dean chuckled.

"That too…" He nibbled along the frame of Castiel's ear. "But I was thinking about the fact that today makes exactly six months since that time I walked in on you in Edenstar's shower room..." he confided quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of Castiel's jaw.

"Is that so?" Castiel mumbled, turning his head to chase after Dean's mouth, but Dean dodged him with a smile.

"Mhm… and actually…" His left hand removed itself from Castiel's pocket and folded around Cas' wrist, bringing his hand up to reveal the hourplate of his wrist watch. "In just thirty minutes from now, I'll get hear you come for the very first time… In spite of your not so successful attempts to keep your deliciously loud mouth shut."

"Fascinating…" Cas mumbled, moaning silently when Dean's right hand fingers brushed against his hardening dick from inside his pockets, rocking him slowly and Dean groaned into his ear when Cas pushed himself back against the bulge he could feel press against his buttocks.

"Cas…?" Dean mumbled.

"Mm?"

"Do you want to take a shower with me?"

"God, I thought you'd never ask..."

Dean chuckled, a sound of infinite promise and pleasure before he gave Cas' hip a final, tender squeeze and pulled away.

"You go ahead," he urged, "I'm just going to put my things away and then I'll join you."

"You have five minutes," Cas warned, "and then I start without you."

"Well now, that wouldn't be the first time would it?" Dean shot back and then he sent Cas on his merry way with an affectionate slap on the ass, ignoring the indignant huff he got in return.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Castiel was proud of his bathroom.

With the exception of his bedroom he was inclined to say that the bathroom was in fact his favorite room in the entire apartment.

Like the rest of the flat, it had a high ceiling, giving it a spacious feeling even though it wasn't that much bigger than any other bathroom out there and he liked that a lot. The second thing he liked about it was the fact that is _wasn't white_. Instead it had this crème color scheme with diamond shaped, marble tiles on the floor and rich, warm mocha colored walls and even though the porcelain was white it only served together with the dark brown, wooden furniture and sleek surfaces to give it all a stylish and neat impression.

The third thing however, and this was the main reason to why he liked the bathroom the way he did, was the shower.

Spanning the entire inner wall of the bathroom, completely encased in glass with light tanned tiles and chromed details, it was without a doubt the best shower Castiel had ever had the luxury of enjoying in his life. Being without it for almost five months had been torture and hadn't it been for Tiger and his incredibly creative distractions he honestly don't think he would have been able to mentally survive without it all this time.

As he unbuttoned his shirt and allowed it to slip off his shoulders and onto the floor he couldn't help but smile. He would have to send those plumbers a generous gift basket one day soon because let's face it; without their poor organization he would still be enjoying his showers alone, that was, he wouldn't _have to_ enjoy them alone if only his boyfriend could hurry up and get his deliciously firm ass in here anytime soon.

His wait did thankfully not last long as he had barely closed the shower door and turned on the spray of water when he heard footsteps on the tiled floor outside the cabinet and soon after there were hands circling him from behind and lips pressing in against the back of his neck as the shower door slid shut with a silent whisper.

"What took you so long?" Cas grumbled, holding back a startled chuckle and a flinch when Dean's fingers shot down to give his sides a reattributing tickle.

"You better watch your tone or I'm gonna leave again." Dean threatened, but Cas just snorted, turning around in his arms to splay his hands on top of Dean's chest.

"No you're not." He said confidently and then he pressed a light kiss against the corner of his partner's mouth while his thumbs swiped over a pair of pert nipples, making Dean drag in a deep breath through his nose.

"No I'm not…" he agreed in a whisper and Cas smiled against his lips as he continued to kiss him, reaching out his hand in search for the shampoo bottle in the rack on the wall.

Their first time in this shower had been, in lack of another word, frantic. Both so eager to put their previously discussed fantasies into action that they had been damn near to actually get themselves killed in the process. Thank god they had improved since then and their second shower had lasted long enough to make them run out of hot water long before they were done. That was one very wet weekend, in every possible sense of the word…

However, Cas had decided from the very first time he actually _saw_ Dean shower that never in a million years would he offer himself to help lather the other man up, not even if asked because that would be a plain stupid thing to do. Even though Dean was absolutely gorgeous, the outline of his muscles shining under the hot spray of water from above and the display being more than enough to make Castiel's finger itch with the urge to reach out and touch, there was still something else that held him back, something that was even better than touching and that was watching they _way_ Dean showered.

At first it wouldn't look like much as Dean just made a quick rub down with the soap over his arms and chest with masculine and quite non-sensual movements, but when his hand gripped around the shampoo bottle for the second time and squeezed out more liquid into the palm of his hand Cas could feel his heart pick up speed beneath his ribs.

Dean distributed the shampoo into his hair, slowly and exquisitely methodically, massaging his scalp with the tip of his fingers from the front to the back where his palms would dip down to linger and press into the tendons of his shoulders and squeeze, rubbing the muscles there slowly and letting out a low groan that echoed silently against the crème walls.

Castiel watched his boyfriend as he moved his hands back up, combing through the wet strands of hair with fingers spread wide and he licked his lips. He was certain that Dean wasn't even aware of how pornographic he made it look when he did that, but seriously, if it hadn't been for the fact that Cas knew he wasn't, he would have thought he was sharing his shower with a porn star.

Dean moaned, adding a scrape of blunt fingernails against his head and Castiel's teeth found and bit down loosely on the lower lip of his mouth, letting a slow breath out through his nose. During this first month of their joined lives Castiel had made it his personal mission to find out all the things that made the Winchester tick, and providing that Dean was a very sexual being Cas had realized rather quickly that winding him up didn't take much effort at all. He had however managed to narrow it down to a Top Three list of things apart from the obvious kissing and flirting that always seemed to do the trick, regardless of the situation.

One; Dean had ridiculously sensitive nipples and it only took a few seconds of light rubbing or playing to render the man short of speechless, something that Cas of course used to his advantage as often as he could.

Second; The man absolutely loved to get bossed around. It was something Cas had not expected Dean to like, but after having been shoved up against a wall or pushed down onto the floor with a growled out order to just shut up and do as he was told Dean was ready to do practically anything, willing and eager in a way that should only be possible in porno flicks, but damnit Cas would be lying if he said he didn't like it which also sort of explained the third and final point on the list which was the fact that Dean _liked having his hair pulled_. And not like the, pet-my-hair-until-I-fall-asleep kind of way, no. Dean liked it when Cas got a real fistful of it and _yanked_, using the grip to steer him wherever he wanted Dean to go and if there was one thing that would push Dean over the edge every single time it was a sharp tug to the back of his head along with a hissed out profanity against his jugular and the poor man never stood a chance.

As of now Dean was apparently indulging in this fetish all on his own, which he always did when he washed his hair and the fingers of his hands clenched and unclenched amongst the short spikes and with every slow pull Dean groaned, the jut of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed and he turned his head to the side and into the flesh of his bicep, releasing another needy sound before allowing his other hand to slide down and rub slow circles across his chest and stomach, sighing contently.

Castiel's fingers wrapped around his dick and pumped lazily, breath low and steady while enjoying the sight before his eyes, the steam slowly growing thicker inside the shower as the water kept washing down upon them both and the suds of shampoo in Dean's hair dissolved under the spray and disappeared down the drain as Dean kept on washing himself, strong hands sliding down over abs and hips. By now Dean's dick had begun to swell, the impressive length hanging thick between his legs and when the edge of his own thumb graced against the soft skin of his balls Dean gave off a filthy little sound that was not a moan nor a whimper, but which made Castiel's breath hitch and the cock in his hand to tense nonetheless and Dean's mouth split into a smug grin, still without opening his eyes.

"I can hear you, you know." He mused. "Like what you see?"

Cas smirked, letting out a breathy chuckle and then he dropped to his knees and let his lips wrap around the head of the half erect dick in front of him and heard Dean suck in a loud gasp of breath when his tongue curled along the suddenly much harder length in his mouth.

"Shit…" Dean panted, the smug tone now completely gone from his voice. "Warn a guy, will you…?"

Castiel hummed and dragged his hands down the muscle of the taller man's legs, as if saying that warning him would have counteracted the purpose and Dean accepted this primitive explanation with a silent moan, his back and shoulders hitting the wall as he took a step back while his fingers came down to thread through the hair on Cas' head, guiding him to follow with the movement.

Castiel wanted to look up, to see how Dean was reacting to him, but the water from the shower kept getting into his eyes and he was forced to close them, deciding to focus completely on the task of making Dean get as loud as he possibly could instead. If he wasn't allowed to _see_ the effect he had, then he sure was hell-bent on _hearing _it.

He brought his right hand up and wrapped his fingers around the base of Dean's cock, lapping at the head as he began sliding his fingers up and down slowly, hollowing his cheeks on the down stroke with that loud, suckling noise that he knew drove Dean crazy and just as expected Dean was soon thrusting forward, searching for Cas to take him deeper with pleading snaps of his hips. Castiel smirked, thinking for a moment about taking his time to tease and edge his partner even further, but then he remembered the hand still curled into his hair and decided that he really didn't have the physical advantage needed for such a move right now. Instead he relaxed his throat and tilted his jaw slightly up in order to get the angle right before he allowed Dean's cock to slide all the way to the back of his throat with an eager moan, making sure to put on a show and going by the appreciative sound coming from above him he was doing a pretty good job.

His free hand which so far had been idle by his side came up to jerk himself off in pace with the movements of his mouth and he let out another pleasured groan when the sharp needle of arousal spiked up his spine. He loved giving blowjobs, not only because he knew how much Dean liked getting them, but because it always gave him a thrill of being in control like nothing else ever did. Of course he loved it when Dean shoved him down into the mattress and basically had his way with him too, but like they had established on that day after their first official date Dean was not one to complain about getting the roles of dominance reversed and Castiel was happy to oblige. A speechless, trembling, breathing-harshly-while-cursing-under-his-breath Dean was his favorite thing in the world and that's what he was now aiming for as he shifted his legs, sitting up higher and he heard Dean gasp and then let out a low whine, evidence that the other man had now seen what Castiel was doing to himself.

"Fuck yes, touch yourself baby…" he rasped, "Damn, you're so beautiful like this…"

Cas moaned, going in deeper and shuddered when he quickened the movements over his own cock, thrusting his hips shallowly into the tight circle of his hand as he licked at the dick in his mouth, fanning his tongue over the slit in quick, shallow swipes.

Dean's breath quickened and suddenly there were two hands holding on to Cas' hair as Dean threw his head back with a breathless groan that echoed through the room, seemingly incapable of doing anything but hold on for the ride while Cas continued to lick and suckle, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing around him and then a wounded whimper reached Castiel's ears just as the hands in his hair tightened and he was pulled off with a rough tug and a gasp.

He opened his eyes, barely having enough time to catch a glimpse of Dean's face; brows knotted together and mouth open and panting before he was hauled to his feet with Dean's lips meeting his half way and the protest that had been about to leave his mouth got swallowed up by the greedy shove of a tongue while Dean's hands clasped around his wrists with a growl, forcing him to let go of himself and guiding him backwards until his back was pressed firmly against the glass wall of the shower.

Dean's breath was hot against his mouth, the slide of their lips slickened with water and the heat of their skin pressing in against each other making the shower seem cold, and even though they were both panting hard for breath when Dean pulled away, Cas still chased after his mouth, not wanting the kiss to stop just yet.

Dean chuckled, an amused glint sparking to life in his eye as his hands wordlessly released Castiel's wrists and rose up and Castiel almost thought he was going to cup his face instead, but to his surprise Dean's hands came to a rest on the glass on either side of his head where they started wiping across the surface in long, squeaky strokes, up over Cas' head and down by his sides, over and over until Dean took a step back with a ridiculously pleased grin on his face.

"There," he announced proudly and Castiel turned his head, eyeing the silhouette of the massive pair of angel wings his lover had drawn into the condensation of the glass with a skeptic brow raised which didn't falter even as Dean's index finger pushed against his chin to guide him to look back at him again.

"I suppose you think that was clever?" Cas asked, trying his best to look and sound as if he actually didn't find the gesture adoring at all.

"As a matter of fact I do," Dean mused, leaning in and down to crowd the smaller man against the glass. "Pretty boy angel…" he murmured, his breath ghosting against Cas' lips still without touching and Castiel snorted, closing the teasing distance by taking a firm hold around Dean's neck and pulling him in for a bruising kiss at the same time as he pushed him backwards and up against he opposite wall while nipping at Dean's lower lip and growling into the heat of his mouth. His momentary upper hand did not last long however because when Castiel's free hand moved down to cup around Dean's balls he barely had the chance to grace the round swell there before Dean had him by the arm and spun him around – thank god for the shower's anti-slip floor! – and pushed him playfully against the wall with a wet smack of skin, arm trapped behind his back with Dean's body pressing in like a solid weight behind him.

"Oh no, you don't," the Winchester scolded softly, his other hand coming up to curl into Castiel's hair anew with loving, yet controlling strength. "It's my turn to play with you now."

Castiel shuddered, smiling into the ceramics while Dean began kissing his way down his neck, leaving small nibbles and love bites over his shoulders and back as he moved further south. The hand not currently holding Castiel locked against the wall slid down the side of his ribs, stroking past his hipbone to grab a handful of his ass, groping slowly and Castiel moaned when Dean began to suckle what would most likely end up a bruising hickey just below his left shoulder blade.

When Dean's first finger entered him Castiel leaned his head against the wall, breathing slowly while Dean prepped him, the man not wasting any time before he pulled out and returned with a second digit.

"Still loose from this morning, aren't you babe?" Dean whispered against his neck and Cas hummed in agreement, his lips parting in a silent gasp when a third finger joined the ones already inside him.

"Hope you didn't get any trouble for being late," Dean added apologetically and Cas arched his back with a shaky chuckle.

"Not really… Matthew's too busy cleaning up Zachariah's mess to… ngh… care about my working schedule…"

"Good…" Dean murmured, "Because I want to do that again sometime… It's a much nicer way to wake up than from some annoying alarm clock."

"I can imagine…" Cas moaned when Dean's fingers spread wider, thrusting into him a little bit harder. "Took you a while… to get with the program though…" he commented.

"I'm not a morning person, you know that…" Dean scolded, "It still takes me about five minutes to figure out where the hell I am when I wake up."

"Maybe I should use my toy next time instead then? Give you some time to orientate yourself."

Dean chuckled and then Cas was left empty, a gaping loss where Dean's fingers had been just seconds ago. He looked to the side, seeing Dean grab the soap to wash his fingers off under the stream of the shower.

"Hurry up," he muttered, but Dean just smirked at him.

"You're too impatient, Cas," he chided, "good things come to those who wait."

"I'm sure they do, but at the moment patience can go fuck itself for all I care."

Dean raised a brow at his crude choice of words, but then he groaned, tilting his head to the ceiling in frustration.

"Shit, I forgot the lube on the basin outside." He muttered, "Hold on, I'll go get it…"

Castiel let out a frustrated sigh, but he didn't say anything when Dean opened up and stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and took three long steps towards the counter on the other side of the room, leaving puddles of water in his wake. Instead he turned back around, leaning heavily against the wall with his eyes closed and relished in the feeling of the water smattering down his back and trickling down his legs, the pattering sensation adding to the already impatient throb he felt in his groin.

The shower door closed behind him and then he heard the sound of a cap popping open, a shiver travelling down his spine while thinking about what would come next and when he felt the first prod of something much larger than fingers entering him he bit his lip with a silent moan.

Dean's hand once again came to tangle in his hair and he allowed the other man to pull at it loosely, craning his head back and spreading fluttering kisses all over the side of his neck, rocking the length into him in shallow thrusts.

"Speaking of toys," Dean murmured against his skin, "I've been thinking about what you said… that time on the couch… About how you used the gift I gave you…"

Castiel nodded, giving him a strangled 'uhu?' in return as the first resistant clench of muscles relaxed and gave out under the steady pressure of Dean's cock.

"I was just thinking… you never mentioned if you used the vibrator back then. Didn't you like it?"

"No, no I… I liked it…." Cas gasped, "And I used it, but I-… I didn't discover it until the very end… I sort of turned it on by accident."

"Accident?" Dean chuckled, nuzzling his nose against Cas' ear. "How the hell did you manage that?"

"I-I don't know," Castiel licked his lips, "It just… ah… it sort of twisted and turned the button on."

Dean laughed again and Castiel groaned when Dean started hitting his prostate, slow and teasing, just barely gracing it and damnit couldn't he just _move_ already?

"How far did you turn it?" Dean suddenly whispered and Castiel scowled, gasping when he felt Dean move in to nip at the side of his neck.

"W-what?" he panted, starting to get a bit annoyed with Dean's sudden fascination of his since long forgotten masturbation session.

"How far did you turn it?" Dean repeated, more demanding this time.

"I don't know," Cas admitted impatiently, "Just… _on_ I guess?" he closed his eyes, rolling his hips in frustration. "W-why do you ask?"

Dean chuckled, kissing Castiel on the neck again and then Castiel's back arched with a loud yelp when the length inside his ass suddenly whirred to life, sending tremors of shockingly pleasurable vibrations through his lower regions and god damnit he hated Dean Winchester, he hated him so fucking much…!

"Does it feel familiar?" Dean asked sweetly and Cas groaned, the embarrassment of having been tricked so completely coloring his cheeks along with the heat of the thrumming assault against his nerve endings.

"Yes…!" he gasped, "Yes it f-feels… Oh god…"

"Yeah it does, doesn't it...?" Dean agreed, pushing what Cas now knew was the dildo in a little bit further. "But do you know what would feel even better?"

"What…?" Cas asked shakily and Dean's lips stretched into a grin against his shoulder before there was another 'click' from below and the vibrations got even stronger, causing Castiel to slump against the wall, gulping in air and bracing himself against the tiles.

"Poor babe…" Dean tsk'd from behind him, "So eager that you didn't ever read the instructions properly did you? Bet you missed out on the part where it says the vibrator comes with six different speeds? You were too horny to pay attention; couldn't wait to get me inside you..."

He moved the dildo in Castiel's ass slowly; circling and using it to spread the man open even further, rubbing the vibrating head against the sensitive insides of him.

"You feel that?" he whispered softly, but Cas couldn't answer, far too busy struggling to get his breath back under control to form words.

"No?" Dean asked with feigned innocence. "You're not feeling that? How about this?"

Castiel's eyes flared open when a third click was heard, a strangled noise ripping out of his throat as his legs began to shake, threatening to give out on him, but Dean just pushed him tighter against the wall, circling his midsection with a strong arm to keep him up as Cas gasped and writhed, the vibrator making every muscle in his body quiver and shake.

"_Fuck_…!" he managed, "Dean, fuck, fuck, _fuck_, oh _god_…!"

The whirring against his prostate was delirious, too much and too little all at the same time. He remembered how the shock of it had pushed him head first into a mind-splitting orgasm the first and last time he used it and he let out a choked groan when the number Dean had said registered inside his mind. Six speeds. Six different levels of torture and this was only halfway. This was only _halfway_ and shit he would definitely die this time; he would be granted the best god damn orgasm of his life and then he would _die_!

His head made a spasmic throw to the side and then he literally choked on his own spit when Dean started moving the dildo inside him, pulling it out and pushing it in and Cas' fingers clawed at the stone in front of him, panting broken words and syllables into the tiles as he pried at the arm around his waist in utter desperation because he couldn't take this, he couldn't take this, it was too much, too much and oh so, so good…!

"Yeah, you're loving this, aren't you?" Dean moaned, ignoring his squirming, "Does it feel good? Are you enjoying it?"

The hand wrapped around his ribs loosened, sneaking down to curl around the stiff member between Cas' legs and Castiel was sure he was going to scratch his way straight through the wall when Dean started stroking him, rough and fast while rubbing over the slit with the pad of his thumb, making Cas wince and thrust helplessly into the tight circle of his hand while the fire in his gut flared higher, making every inch of his skin tingle.

"Dean…! Shit, I'm-…!"

"You know, I bet I could make you come with this." Dean mumbled, calm and steady as if Castiel wasn't close at all, "Not even touching you, just fucking into you just like this. You think I could do that? You're that close?"

Cas couldn't answer. He couldn't tell if he was close or if he was already riding the high of his release, damnit, he didn't even know if he had his eyes open or closed anymore from the sparks going off inside his head, blinding him. Dean was kissing along his back, his tongue lavishing his skin and he could feel the other's erection rub against the back of his thigh, rocking against him lazily and he moaned out a yes, not really caring what he was agreeing to as long as it made Dean do _something_!

When Dean slowed down the pace of the dildo Castiel barely managed to hold back a whimper and when the grip around his dick disappeared he slumped against the wall, trying his best to breathe through the vibrations still coursing through him, making his body twitch.

"Hands on the wall, angel…" Dean ordered softly and Cas brought his hands up to rest against the tiles next to his head, arching with a quiet gasp when Dean raked blunt fingernails down his back to squeeze around his left ass-cheek, spreading him wider and this time Cas was almost expecting it when the fourth click of the dildo sounded through the shower.

He was not, however expecting the fifth click that followed the split second after and his limbs must have locked up in seizure or something because there was no way that he was still standing, there was just no way and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe shit, he couldn't _breathe_...!

"Shh, that's it, you're doing great," Dean cooed against his ear and Cas garbled out something inarticulate in return, his gut clenching when Dean began thrusting the dildo in and out of him again, slow and steady in a disgustingly smug way that set Castiel's entire soul on fire.

His torment was lessened shortly after when the vibrations were adjusted back to the fourth setting, but instantly the pace of the thrusting quickened, the rhythm going faster, pistoning in and out of him so fast Cas couldn't even think straight and when he thought that he was just about to lose it the force of the vibrations eased down to almost nothing and the dildo stilled completely, not moving an inch as it left him hanging over the edge of climax before pulling him back in with a tug that made his very bones ache.

Lips fluttered across the span of Castiel's heaving shoulder blades, teeth nibbling softly at his skin with a tongue swiping out to soothe the bites immediately after as Dean's free hand moved deftly over his ribs, stroking across his chest, rubbing over the frantic pounding of his heartbeat before brushing down his side to his leg where it grabbed hold of Dean's own cock and stroked it softly while rubbing the head of the length against Castiel's trembling thigh.

"I've been wanting to do this to you for months," Dean moaned, dragging his cock up and down the side of Castiel's ass, smearing precum over his skin. "I thought about it when I made it for you... I stood in my bathroom, imagining this exact moment when I would get to fuck you open with it." He moaned again and slid the toy out a little bit before slowly pushing it back in, making Castiel's moan shamelessly.

"It made me so hard just thinking about it; I didn't even need the cock ring the instructions talked about…" he continued, sounding as if the mere memory of that time was enough to make his toes curl. "But having that mold on for two full minutes waiting for the damn gel to set…?" he added with a breathy chuckle, pushing the toy in and out a second time. "Fuck… it was torture, baby… I wanted to jack off and come while screaming your name so bad…"

Castiel's breath got stolen from his chest when the dildo snapped back up to the fourth setting and Dean began to thrust into him once more, fast and ruthless only to turn the dildo off again and continue the torturously slow slide in and out only seconds after.

"So hot…" Dean mumbled, "So fucking beautiful…"

Once again the speed of the toy inside him amped up and once again Castiel's eyes rolled back into his head when the assault upon his prostate returned, swift and erratic and once again it all disappeared far too fast, didn't last close to long enough to make the sparks in his gut burst into blissful flames of release and a sobbing whimper escaped his throat when the click of the fourth setting was heard once again.

Leaning against his the wall he hid his face in the crook of his elbow, the toy still buzzing against his insides, sending hot pulses throughout his body and even though Dean didn't make any indications to move it again Cas was now rocking back against the toy without even realizing it, making Dean give a pleased groan.

"Such a fucking slut for this aren't you, Cas…" he mumbled, his hand coming up to stroke a wet stripe of hair away from Castiel's forehead. "You want me to let you come?" he whispered, "Or do you want me to keep you like this a while longer?"

"No…!" Cas gasped, his head shaking desperately with his eyes screwed shut.

"'No' what?" Dean smirked and Castiel groaned, gulping down a breath as he rolled his hips pleadingly.

"I-I can't take it… I can't take anymore, please…"

"You want me to make you come, baby?" Dean mumbled, caressing his hand over the wet tangles of his hair and settling it along his jawline, turning Cas' face towards him, "You want me to toyfuck you until you lose it and splatter your load all over the wall, huh?"

"Yes…" Cas whispered, forcing his eyes open to meet Dean's gaze, "Please… let me come… Dean, please, I can't-…"

"You promise to scream my name when you do?"

"Yes! Anything, I'll do anything, please… Anything, just let me-… let me come, I beg you_…_"

Dean looked at him, tilting his head to the side as he studied the other man's face, taking in the pleading twitch of those eyebrows, the glistening droplets clinging to the lashes of those glazed over eyes and the water trickling at the corner of that open mouth and then he pressed a rough, greedy kiss against Castiel's full lips at the same time as he flipped the toy up the final two settings in one go.

Castiel's froze, his body stiff and tense for a split second before he broke away from the kiss with a loud yell, eyes clamped shut, incoherent words tumbling from his lips mixed with a ragged repeating of 'Dean, Dean, Dean…!' that escalated into a hoarse cry when Castiel pushed back against the toy inside him, his cock twitching and streaking the wall in dripping stripes of white as he came, every muscle on his body trembling from the effort to simply stay upright.

Cas barely had the time to come down before the dildo was pulled out of him and he was whirled around, Dean's mouth latching onto his with a snarl as his legs was pulled up to circle around Dean's waist and before he had time to react or even figure out how it was supposed to work Dean was hoisting him up, pressing him against the wall and slipping into him with an ease that terminated whatever shredded trace of thought process he had left inside his head.

Dean was fucking into him, hard and rough, thrusting and grunting out silent curses against his lips in between the kisses that never seemed to stop and Castiel's arms flailed to the side, chasing after something to hold on to, something to support himself with to keep him from slipping down, but there was nothing but slick stone tiles, wet with water and his desperate clawing ended with his right hand wrapped around the back of Dean's neck and the left one pressing against the wall in a poor attempt to help support his weight.

He could feel Dean's pulse race under the palm of his hand, the girth of Dean's cock filling him up and pounding against his already over sensitized prostate as the buzz of his orgasm kept shooting through him, causing his limbs to twitch and spasm under the jet from the shower and Jesus fuck, if Dean kept this up he was going to milk him dry, he could feel the heat of a second orgasm already climbing inside his body. He tried to say Dean's name, but it didn't even sound human when it left his mouth and the hand Dean used to hold him up with squeezed around his ass, a finger stretching to rub against the furled rim where the swell of Dean's cock disappeared inside him and Castiel's head lolled back against the tiles with a breathless groan because yeah, oh yes that was it, just like that, oh please…!

"Fuck me…!" he hissed, his hand slipping over Dean's skin to grab a cruel hold of the short hair at the back of the other's head. "Gonna make me come again… Shit, keep going… Don't you dare come yet, not yet, you hear me?"

Dean nodded, his mouth falling open in a breathless whimper when Castiel tugged at his hair, forcing him to look up at him.

"Yeah… yeah just like that…" Cas growled, "Fucking give it to me… Give it to me, Dean, c'mon…!"

Dean's eyelids fluttered, his eyes for a second seemingly losing focus on him before they went wide, clear green darting up to stare at him in bewildered panic.

"Don't stop." Cas ordered sharply, sensing how Dean began to slow down.

"I'm going to come…" Dean objected weakly.

"Don't _stop_!" Cas snarled, "I'm so close, I'm-… Oh god, go faster… I need you _faster_…!"

Dean gritted his teeth, the muscles in his back flexing and Castiel's eyes slid shut with a sharp intake of breath when Dean's hips snapped forward and up, pinning him against the vertical surface behind him so hard he felt the air rush out of his lungs on impact and then Dean's hand was on his dick, jacking him off hard and fast and yes, yes, yes, _yes_…!

"Fuck…" he whimpered, "Oh fuck, Dean, fuck…!"

"Come with me…" Dean hissed, "Come with me, Cas…"

Castiel's mouth fell open, a scream without sound tumbling off his tongue and the blue of his eyes disappeared beneath heavy eyelids when Dean's hips gave three final, brutal shoves against his prostate and then Dean buried his face against Cas' chest, growling out a single drawn out syllable that could have been Castiel's name as he came, spilling inside his lover with a desperation that would have been otherwise embarrassing but which at this precise limbs shaking, heart racing and mind blowing moment felt nothing short of amazing.

Castiel's feet touched back onto the floor when Dean's hands slowly slipped him back down, legs wobbling and every muscle in his body feeling like an overcooked noodle and hadn't it been for Dean's body which was still pinning him against the tiles he would never have been able to keep himself upright.

Castiel opened his mouth, panting for breath, grasping for the part of his brain where words were supposed to be made, but seeing as he came up with nothing but a vast blank space he allowed his jaw to simply slacken, the fingers still clutching around Dean's hair twitching, sending Dean himself into a shivering fit under the rush of the shower falling down upon them both.

"Jesus Christ…" Dean panted, rubbing his forehead against the side of Castiel's neck with a groan, "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Speak for yourself…" Cas gasped, leaning his head back with a silent thud against the tiles. God, he felt as if his entire body was buzzing with electricity, his head foggy and dulled, eyesight cluttered with dancing, shining spots and flashes of bright, white light that seemed to echo throughout his entire being. His body was tingling, millions and millions of ants crawling underneath the layers of his skin and when the scratch of Dean's stubbled chin rasped against his neck he let out a choked giggle, bringing his shoulder up to shield himself from the suddenly horrible tickling sensation, causing Dean's temple to bump into his jaw with a dull bang.

"C'mon, Cas, really?" Dean laughed, looking at the squirming man with a wide grin. "You always get so sensitive after you orgasm, it's fucking ridiculous." He reached out to splay his hand over the quivering muscles of the other's stomach, smearing at the spunk caught in the trail of hair there, but Cas flinched away with a panicked squawk, grabbing Dean's wrist to hold him off.

"No! D-don't touch me…!" he chuckled, squirming to get as far away from Dean's fingers as he possibly could inside the confined space.

"But I want to cuddle you," Dean objected with exaggerated enthusiasm, pushing in to rub his chin against the undefended side of Castiel's neck and shoulder, punching another startled snort of laughter out of Castiel's lungs. "C'mere, just one hug, don't be such a child!" he crowed.

"No…!" Cas pleaded, feeling the spidery touch of fingertips brush against his ribs, "Dean, stop! Stop, you know I can't handle th- Dean, n-no!_ Stop_!"

Dean laughed, a low rumble that traveled through Castiel's chest like the purr from a large jungle cat, but he stopped tickling him, even though the phantom tingles of both beard and fingertips kept wrecking shivers through his limbs and he had all the trouble in the world not to flinch again when he felt Dean flutter a kiss over the beat of his pulse. He sighed, closing his eyes, a few more tired chuckles fleeing his mouth as Dean continued to kiss his way up his jaw, lips moving to the corner of his mouth to finally press firmly against his own, nibbling softly on the flesh of his lower lip before gently pulling away again.

"I hate you," Castiel murmured, an exhausted smile threatening to curve the corner of his mouth, but he managed to keep it at bay, letting a crossed pout seep into the tone of his voice.

"C'mon, I made you laugh, didn't I?" Dean coaxed, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Castiel's shoulder and Castiel's teeth clamped down over his lower lip to keep himself from chuckling again, quickly restoring his poker face when he felt Dean's touch leave his skin as the other man straighten up.

"Hey…" Dean nudged him in the side with his elbow, making the shorter man squint an eye open to glare at him and then he leaned in and gave Cas another, bordering to apologetic kiss on the lips, but when he pulled back and leaned his forehead against Castiel's own, his lips stretched out into a wide grin, his fingers moving in to ghost threateningly against the jut of Cas' hip.

"Happy anniversary, angel-boy…" he teased and Castiel broke out in a snorted giggle, the serious mask he was trying to uphold crumbling helplessly when a thumb jabbed him in the side and he grappled for Dean's hands, prying them off his body with a sharp yelp.

After a short wrestling struggle Dean somehow ended up in the inner corner of the shower and Castiel, spotting his chance, immediately snatched the showerhead out of its holder and aimed it towards Dean's unprotected body, twisting the thermostat of the mixer as far into the blue field as it would go and moments later the echoes of Dean's panicked cries of '_Cas!_' and '_For fuck sakes turn it_ off_!_' could be heard all the way to the fourteenth floor.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

_**So, our babies got their shower scene, at last. Aren't they just deliciously adorable? ;)**_

_**Sadly, this is also were the story of their meeting ends. It's been a wonderful ride and I'm so glad that so many of you have found my fanfic worthy of not only your time but also your comments and encouragements as well.**_

_**Therefore, and this is all on you, you lovely bastards, I will CONTINUE to post chapters to this story.**_

_**Yes, you read that right. **_

_**Like I said, the story of Blue and Tiger ends here, but the story of Dean and Cas… well that's something else entirely ;)**_

_**The bonus chapters will be posted as oneshots – note: they are **_**not**_** a new story arch – depicting the various adventures that the life of a new relationship can bring. The lengths and contents of these oneshots will probably vary a lot and I can't tell when they will be posted or how many there will be, but if you have any ideas, any suggestions to situations be it fluff, angst, porn or whatever, please feel free to share them with me and they might just end up being put to good use ;)**_

_**This is my gift to you for being so absolutely adorable and wonderful, you really have made a huge impact on my everyday life and I am eternally grateful for all the positive feedback I've received. When my days were shitty they could turn around with just a single review from anyone of you and lord knows how I've found myself grinning and blushing and flailing over the many wonderful things you've written me. I've been trying to respond to as many of you as possible, and I continue to work through my mailbox even as we speak, but with my upcoming trip to A10 in Birmingham I'm not sure if I'll be able to answer everyone, but please know that I appreciate you writing me beyond words, and that it is **_**you**_** who are the reason to why my writing skills continue to grow. I will never be able to pay you back for the help and inspiration you have given and **_**continue**_** to give to me, but perhaps this will serve as a good start.**_

_**Stay awesome my lovelies, and keep an eye open for that first bonus-chapter ;) You've earned it.**_

_**Lots of Love**_

_**/ Carolina**_


End file.
